Lost and Found
by JamiW
Summary: This is a part of the "Free" series. If I had to number it, I'd say -1.  It is pre-FREE, showing how Mike and Carolyn's relationship got started. It was originally mostly M/C, but B/A have hijacked it.
1. Chapter 1

**Logan POV**

* * *

Another damn partner.

I've completely lost count of how many I've had, and I can't decide whether I should take it personally or not.

_Fuck 'em_, I decided.

Fuck 'em all.

I'm a good cop. I might not be sure about anything else about myself, but I know that to be true.

I'm a _very_ good cop.

So the fact that Falacci decided to leave the NYPD and head off for Quantico surely isn't my fault.

Although it's not like I care anyway.

She and I never really clicked.

Of course, Wheeler and I hadn't exactly hit it off either, but after she left and I got saddled with Falacci, I started to miss Wheeler a little bit.

Ross said that she's coming back in a couple of months, so I figure I'll be working solo until then. And then I'll be working with her again.

Unless she requests someone else, which is always a possibility.

"Another drink, Mike?"

I gave the bartender a nod and drained the remaining drop of Jack from my glass before sliding it closer to him for a refill.

"Where's the lady-friend tonight?" he asked me.

"Which one?"

I haven't brought a date here in more than a month. I haven't _had_ a date in more than a month. I'm kind of in a dry spell.

Surprisingly enough, I'm okay with that.

I'm starting to feel like maybe I'm too old to keep up the string of meaningless relationships. But at the same time, I'm not sure if I'm capable of getting a woman to want to hang around much past the morning after, so...I don't know. It's an odd time in my life, I guess.

"The red-head," the bartender clarified.

Falacci and I stopped by this place to have a drink, a few times during our partnership. Just to go over case notes or discuss strategy.

I never had more than one drink when I was around her because I got the feeling that she wouldn't mind getting me drunk and taking advantage of me.

I've only had one partner that I'd be okay with that scenario, and Falacci isn't the one.

So I shook my head emphatically at the bartender's misconception.

"She was a partner, not a girlfriend. I'm sort of…between women right now. Hell, I'm between partners, too."

It sounds pretty depressing when I say it out loud.

What's wrong with me that makes no one want to stick around? I mean, I know I'm damaged, but I guess I thought I was better at hiding it.

_Apparently not_.

I picked up the newly-filled glass and swirled the bronze-colored liquid. I don't like to drink alone, but it seems to be all I do anymore.

Every once in awhile, I'll get Goren to come out with me. We had a rocky start a few years back, what with him trying to pull my then-girlfriend into his investigation at that prison.

But Goren's a stand-up guy, and I've learned a lot from him since I joined MCS.

And he seems to attract bad luck about as much as I do, so maybe that's why we get along so well.

Well, that and the fact that I respect his relationship with Eames. I like to give her a hard time, but I've never asked her out. A blind man could see that Goren is in love with her, and I would never infringe upon another man's territory.

Ha. Eames would kick my ass from now 'til Sunday if she knew I'd referred to her as Goren's _territory, _but hey, it's a fact.

And he's hers as much as she's his, so that's not a bad thing.

Earlier, I called Goren to see if I could interest him in meeting me for a drink tonight. He was suspended recently so I figured he could use the pick-me-up.

But it didn't surprise me that he declined the offer. Not when I could swear I heard Eames' voice in the background.

And he was at _home_, so that makes things interesting.

He'll probably deny it until his dying day, but I know those two are sleeping together.

It doesn't take a genius to figure it out.

Obviously, that kind of thing is frowned upon by the powers that be, but still…it happens. If anyone needs a little light in their life, it's Goren, and I know that Eames is the only one who can bring it to him, so as far as I'm concerned, rules be damned.

I figure that this suspension thing is probably killing him. Hell, it's probably killing both of them, not being able to work side by side, day in and day out.

I know a little bit about the pleasure of working with the perfect person, the satisfaction that can be gained from getting to spend the better part of the day with someone who just gets you.

And I also know how much it sucks once that other person is gone.

As I finished off my drink, I heard the door open and I fought the urge to turn around. It's normally my habit to do so, but tonight, I don't really care who's coming in.

Besides, it's a cop bar. No criminal in their right mind would try to pull something here.

"Still coming to this rat hole, huh, Mike?"

When I heard her voice, I wished I _had_ turned around when the door opened. That way I could've watched her walk across the room.

As it was, I forced myself to turn slowly so as not to seem overly anxious.

"Apparently so are you," I replied casually.

How my voice came out sounding so blasé, I have no idea because on the inside my heart is thundering like a herd of elephants.

"I came here looking for you."

She's looking for me? This can't possibly be real. I must have passed out and now I'm having this completely real-feeling dream.

Because in reality, Carolyn Barek would _never_ come looking for _me_.

"Sit down. I'll buy you a drink," I told her, and then I turned to the bartender and added, "Another Jack for me. And a shot of Patron for the lady."

"Let's get a booth," Barek suggested as the bartender set the drinks down on the bar.

So I picked up the glasses and followed her to a booth along the darkened back wall. As I walked behind her, I didn't stop myself from fully checking her out.

She looks every bit as good as she looked a little over a year ago, which was the last time I saw her.

In fact, she looks better.

"Do I pass?" she asked me as she slid into one side of the booth.

"Pass?"

"Inspection," she replied in that sweetly soft voice. "You were lookin' at my ass."

"I…um…okay, yeah I was," I admitted. I'm not going to be embarrassed about it.

"And yeah, you definitely pass," I added with a grin.

She smiled back at me and I was struck again by how good-looking she is. She'd let her hair grow a little longer and her skin has a healthy glow, even though it's mid-December.

"You look pretty good, too," she said. "I'm glad I found you."

"How hard have you looked?"

"I've been in here a few nights this week. You're not living in the same place and you don't have the same number."

"You could've called Major Case. They haven't kicked me to the curb yet."

"Well, what fun would that be? It was more challenging this way."

"And?"

"And I wanted to see you in person. I was afraid if I called, you might not want to talk to me."

"You think I'm mad at you?"

Truth is I _was _mad. Hell, I was extremely pissed off.

And devastated.

And heart-broken.

When she left the department, I almost quit myself. I didn't want to do the job if she wasn't going to be there with me.

Because during our year of working together, I managed to fall head-over-heels in love with her. But since I never told her how I felt, how can I justify being mad at her?

"Aren't you?" she asked a little shyly.

Damn. I would've thought that after a year's time those feelings were gone. They _should _be gone.

But everything came rushing back just from looking at her.

I tried to fight it, because I don't want to feel like this. I know I'll only end up getting crushed again, because whatever her reason for looking me up, it surely isn't so that she can strike up a relationship with me.

But the fighting with myself is pointless and I'm already bracing myself for another heartbreak as I stared at her and quietly said, "No. I'm not mad at you."

"Huh. See, that's weird because the Mike Logan I knew would've been pissed."

"Okay, maybe I was mad a little. But Barek, it's been over a year. Even I don't hold a grudge for that long."

"Good. I um…I wanted to tell you that…um…I'm sorry."

"Sorry? What the hell for?"

"I'm sorry for leaving the way I did."

"We weren't a couple. We were work colleagues. You didn't owe me any explanation."

It hurt to say those words. She was so much more to me than a colleague.

But since I was never man enough to admit it, well…I have to deal with the consequences. One of which is that she was free to go wherever she pleased without saying a word to me about it.

"Mike…" she started and then she stopped. "Wow, this is harder than I thought it would be. I was expecting you to be mad."

"You want me to yell or something?" I teased, still trying to find solid footing in this conversation, but my attempt fell short and neither of us smiled.

"No, I just…if you were mad, then maybe…" she trailed off again and this time she picked up her glass and tossed back all of the liquid in one drink before stating, "I just got back to New York. I've been living in Colombia."

"South America?"

"Uh huh."

"They've got good tequila down there," I mused.

I know I'm throwing her off by being so agreeable, and I can't figure that out.

She _wants_ me to be mad? That doesn't make any sense.

"I was offered a position with the Bureau to work on a special task force. It was a joint effort with the ATF."

"You hate the Bureau."

"Yeah, I know," she said, huffing out a small laugh.

"So why would you do it?"

"It's a long, drawn-out story," she hedged.

"I've got time," I told her.

I set my hands on the table and without conscious thought, I started twisting my ring around. I know it was a tell, but I can't stop myself, and it's not like it matters. Carolyn doesn't need to read my tells anyway. She's probably reading my every thought as it crosses my mind. She's always been eerily good at knowing what I'm thinking.

_Except when it comes to how I feel about her. _

She sighed heavily and sat back in the booth, and I can't take my eyes off of her. She's just so damn beautiful.

"After that Colemar case…you know we ruffled a lot of feathers with that one."

"We ruffled a lot of feathers with most of them," I reminded her, the memory serving to relax me enough to offer her a genuine smile.

"Yes we did," she agreed, returning my smile. Although hers was brief and fleeting as she added, "Moran wasn't a fan. Of either of us."

Suddenly, I don't like the way this is heading. What does Moran have to do with any of this, and why is she so reluctant to talk about it?

"Mike, you have to promise me that nothing I say will ever leave this table."

Now I'm liking it even less.

What the hell is going on?

"Mike."

"I promise," I said reluctantly.

"I know you would never go back on your word."

"No, I won't. Now tell me."

"I got a call from Deakins not long after he left. He wanted to give me a heads-up that Moran was going to bring the ax down on you. He wanted both of us, but he couldn't dig up enough dirt on me to make anything stick, so he focused solely on you instead. He was bringing up that Tarkman shooting again. He wanted your head on a platter."

"That's no surprise," I said carefully. "But I was cleared on that shooting."

"I know that. I was there, remember? I know it was a good shoot."

"So…"

"So I had this offer from the Bureau. They told me it would be six months. After I heard what Moran wanted to do, well…I went to see him. I made a deal with him."

"What kind of deal?" I asked warily.

"I told him that I would go if he let you stay."

TBC...


	2. Chapter 2

**Carolyn POV**

* * *

I sat back and waited, giving him the chance to let my statement sink in. I have no doubt that once it does, I'll get the anger I've been looking for.

I suddenly, desperately need another drink, so I left Mike at the table and went to the bar to get us another round.

I ordered doubles this time because I think we're going to need it. Or at least, _I_ need it. My nerves are shot all to hell.

I've been back in New York for nearly two weeks and all I've been able to think about is finding Mike.

Of course, I thought about him the entire time I was in Puerto Santander, too.

It was supposed to have been a six-month gig but that turned into fourteen months, and I was dying to just be done with it and the Bureau so that I could get back to New York.

I've talked to Alex a few times since I got back, but I didn't tell her much. I never admitted to her my feelings for Mike, and I'm not about to start now. Not that she would be judgmental. I mean, damn, she and Goren have probably been sleeping together for years, so I know she'll understand. But I don't want to tell her because I'm afraid that Mike is going to reject me.

I waited too long. I hurt him too much. Most likely, I missed my chance.

So I only asked Alex about Mike in a casual sense, just like I asked about a few others from MCS. She might've been suspicious when I asked her not to tell Mike that I was back, but she didn't push me on it.

See, when I first left, my hope was that I'd get over him. Because I felt a little ashamed that I allowed myself to fall in love with my partner.

And a guy like him…he certainly isn't my usual type. I tend to go for steady, disciplined…

_Boring_, my mind supplied.

And that's true.

But Mike Logan is anything but boring.

He has a reputation, I know that much, but he's also very loyal and honest.

I don't think he would ever mislead a woman about his intentions. I just don't think his intentions would be what I was looking for.

A sweaty romp in the sack would have been a great stress reliever, but I would've wanted more from him.

I _do_ want more from him.

So when all of the shit went down with the Colemar case and with Deakins…I did what I felt like I had to do.

I protected Mike and then got the hell out.

_I ran like a coward, _I pointed out cynically.

I could've quit and still stayed in New York. But then I would've had to admit to Mike what I did. And _why_.

Instead, I figured that six months in the jungle would cure me of what I hoped was just a childish crush. Lustful hormones, maybe.

But it didn't.

The time away only made me realize that I'm completely in love with him, only now I've screwed it all up. Because after the first six months passed and I realized that I wasn't going to get to come back any time soon, well let's just say I panicked a little.

Okay, I panicked a _lot_.

Because too much time had passed. I couldn't call him out of the blue, six months later, from another continent. What would I have said?

_Oh yeah, by the way I know I left you, but I'm in love with you_…

No, that kind of thing had to be said in person.

But the assignment kept getting extended. Finally, just after Thanksgiving, the Bureau told me that I was going to be down there indefinitely. I was doing a great job and the position was reclassified as permanent instead of temporary.

So I decided to call it quits. I handed in my notice and hauled ass back to New York.

But now comes the hard part.

Now I have to get him to forgive me for walking away.

Now I have to pray that he has at least half of the feelings for me that I have for him.

I have to swallow my pride and put my cards on the table, even if it means he might throw them back at me.

It's not my usual kind of thing. In fact, this is a completely new experience for me.

But I think he's worth it.

And I'm not going to keep hiding from the truth. I did enough of that in the jungles of Colombia.

So I'm back.

I don't have a job. I'm not even sure yet what I want to do, but definitely something where I can be my own boss. I've done enough political ass-kissing to last me a life time.

I don't have a place to live yet, either. I'm currently in a hotel because I figured I would wait and see how the job thing pans out before I chose an area to live in.

And really, my first priority is Mike.

I can't seem to make sense out of anything else until I get my feelings off my chest. And if he rejects me…I don't know what I'll do. Hell, I might not even stay in New York. He's the only reason why I came back in the first place.

"Here you go, sweetheart," the bartender told me as he slid the glasses across the countertop. "This round's on the house."

"Thanks," I replied with a smile.

"He's a good customer," he told me with a nod toward Mike. "But he spends too much time in here alone."

He gave me a wink and then went to help another customer. I guess that was his way of letting me know that Mike's available. I chuckled a little at the thought of the bartender pimping him out, but at the same time, I'm grateful for the insight.

"Tell me everything," Mike said darkly when I got back to the booth.

I brought my eyes to his and I startled by the intensity of his gaze. It's scary and yet arousing at the same time. I forgot how he can be both.

"Okay," I agreed.

"I mean it. Don't leave anything out."

"I won't. Where do you want me to start?"

"Why did Deakins call you instead of me?"

"He likes you. He wanted me to know so that I could…I don't know. Be there for you, I guess. He wanted to make sure you had a friend."

"He didn't tell you to talk to Moran?"

"No. No, that was all me."

I watched him carefully as he mulled over the facts. He's angry and guarded and I haven't even gotten to the worst of it yet.

_Maybe this wasn't such a good idea…_

But I don't see where I have a choice. I need to clear the air.

"So then you went to Moran. I'd love to know how that conversation went."

"You know that the Nassau DA was ticked about the way we handled the Colemar case."

Mike nodded and I continued.

"They wanted a head. Instead of standing up for us, like he should've done, Moran decided to take the opportunity to get rid of you. He figured that with your history, he could get away with it. So I offered him my head instead of yours."

"I'll get back to the why in just a minute. For now, tell me how you got him to go along with that."

"It would've been sketchy to get rid of you. He would've had to document his reasoning behind it, and you would've had grounds to fight it if you wanted to. And if you fought it and won, it would make him look even worse."

"So he agreed. Just like that."

"I…um…well, let's say it was a mutual power struggle."

"Mutual? What did you have on him?"

_And here we go_. This is the part that I think might send him through the roof.

"After I made my offer, he…made a counter-offer."

"Explain that."

"Well, he sort of…propositioned me."

"He did what?" he shouted. "What did he say?"

The other patrons in the bar all turned to look at us, but I ignored them and put my hand on Mike's forearm in an effort to calm him down a little, and amazingly, it worked.

He stopped his rant and looked at my hand where it rested on his skin, and then he slowly brought his eyes back up to mine, and I was overwhelmed by the myriad of emotions and by the fact that he allowed them all to shine through.

"Did he touch you?" he asked slowly. "Did he lay a hand on you?"

"No," I assured him. "No, he just made a couple of suggestions as to how I could convince him to let you keep your job. He said that…um…since I cared so much that I was…probably doing those things with you, and…so he wanted a um…_piece of the action_ is how he put it."

I watched as he took several deep breaths in an effort to control his temper, and then I continued.

"I told him that he was going to take my deal or I would file a harassment suit. I would be his fall guy for the Nassau DA and he would drop his crusade against you."

"So you took the ax for me."

"I had the offer in Colombia. I've bounced around a lot. It wasn't a big deal."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"You would've never let me do it."

"That's right. Because it was a stupid thing to do. You quit your job so that I wouldn't lose mine? Barek, that's crazy."

"Yeah," I admitted. "But I was ready to be done. I was only sticking around for one reason. And I was going to lose that either way."

I waited for my words to register with him.

Will he get what I'm trying to say or is he too hard-headed to consider the possibility that he's the reason I stayed with the department as long as I did?

Because my stint with Major Case was only supposed to be temporary.

_Like everything else in my life_.

But after working a few cases with him, I stayed around because I was drawn to him.

I wanted to go to work each day just to hear what crazy thing was going to come out of his mouth.

I wanted to see what kind of ridiculous tie he was going to wear.

When I learned that Moran was going after him, I had to do something about it. Because if Mike left, then I'd leave too, and then Moran would have exactly what he wanted.

Since the outcome for me would be the same either way, it was only fitting that I use it to my advantage and save Mike's job.

He loves his job. He's been doing it for a long time, and I knew he'd keep doing it even after I was gone.

"How were you going to lose either way?" he finally asked.

I felt butterflies in my stomach, knowing that it was now or never.

But he hasn't yelled at me about what I did, and he's not so angry with me to make him walk away. He's just sitting here, willing to listen.

That _has_ to mean something.

"If I did nothing, then you were going to get fired. And then I still would've quit. By doing what I did, you got to keep your job."

"Why would you have quit?"

"Mike, I was only staying to be near you."

He was stunned, but only for a second.

"You moved to _South America_. I haven't heard from you in over a year. Shit, Carolyn, you didn't even tell me where you were going. That doesn't sound like someone who only kept her job to be near me."

Even though I was expecting this reaction, it still hurt. I halfway hoped that he'd be so happy to see me that he'd forget about everything else.

_Yeah, right_.

Mike doesn't forget anything.

And honestly, I'm not all that sure if he's happy to see me or not.

_Although he did call me Carolyn instead of Barek_.

Even if he was yelling at the time.

"It was only supposed to be for six months. I thought…I thought that I would go, and maybe I could gain some perspective. But the feelings didn't go away, and so then I thought that when I got back…I don't know. I thought that maybe it would work out. But then it was fourteen months instead of six, but I still had to try…"

"You thought what would work out? That you'd come back after six months and then what?" he asked suspiciously, and I can tell he's still angry, but he softened his tone.

I realized that I my hand was still resting on his arm and self-consciously, I pulled it back.

"I hoped that maybe you would be interested in…exploring a relationship."

There.

I said it.

I practiced those words a million times and they were still nearly impossible to say, but I did it.

"You're interested in exploring a relationship. With _me_?"

"Yeah," I said nervously. "That's what I was thinking, yeah."

"I don't know what to say to that. I don't know what to say to any of this. I need to get some air."

He got up, tossed down a few bills, and walked out of the bar.

_So much for him not walking away_.

This just turned into my worst-case scenario.

Now what?

I've never chased after a man in my entire life. I've never been interested in one enough to do so. I mean, sure, I've had my share of lovers, but there was never much emotion involved, or at least not on my part, so when whomever I was with decided it was time to walk away, then I was fine with it.

But I'm not going to let Mike go. I can't. I know I screwed up, and I understand why he's mad, but I can't let him walk away.

So I hurried out of the bar and out into the night.

TBC...


	3. Chapter 3

**Logan POV**

* * *

I'm completely floored.

I don't know what to think. There are too many things running through my head and none of them are making sense.

She quit the department so that I wouldn't get fired?

She essentially blackmailed Moran?

And she did a damn good job of it, I'd have to say. That bastard has pretty much left me alone.

But then she moved to Colombia, and hasn't spoken with me since the last time I watched her walk out of 1PP.

And now she says she wants to…what did she say? _Explore a relationship with me?_

See, that's where she's got me.

Because as mad as I am about everything she did, I'm still exhilarated by the thought that she cares about me. That she's _interested_ in me.

That she apparently wants me.

I would've never guessed that in a million years.

Even when she walked into the bar and admitted she's been looking for me, I never considered the possibility that she thinks about me that way.

Has she lost her mind? I know I'm not good enough for her, so why doesn't she know that?

I walked quickly down the street in an effort to work off my ire, and about eight blocks into the walk, it occurred to me that I probably just blew my opportunity.

Once again, I let my temper ruin my life.

I came to an abrupt halt in the middle of the sidewalk while I pondered my latest revelation.

Everything she did, it was because she cares about me. So if she's crazy enough to want me, who am I to argue?

But if she_ is _interested in me, why did she go so long without talking to me?

I probably should've stuck around long enough to ask her.

"Mike!"

I whirled around on the sidewalk in time to see her jogging towards me.

_Carolyn Barek is running after me_.

Now I'm sure I'm dreaming.

But I can't just let her off the hook. Not yet. I was hit by a truck when she left the department. I spent the first few months trying to forget her, and then the next several months trying to come to grips with the idea that I never would.

I _do_ have a little bit of pride, and I can't just pretend that she didn't hurt me.

But I'm also not dumb enough to keep walking away.

So I waited for her as she slowed down and came to a stop directly in front of me, her head barely coming to my chest. I think I forgot how short she is. And I'm pretty sure no one's ever told _her_ that she's short because she acts like she's ten feet tall and bullet-proof.

She got toe-to-toe with me, tossed her hair back, and looked me straight in the eye.

"We need to talk about this," she said breathlessly.

"I think we just did."

Yeah, I know. I'm still being obtuse. It's what I'm good at.

"Mike, please. Give me a chance."

_Oh, how I want to give her a chance_.

I never imagined a scenario where she would be begging me.

I always figured that if the situation ever came to pass, it would be _me_ down on my hands and knees begging _her_.

I looked at her face as it tilted up toward mine, her eyes dark and her cheeks flushed from the cold, and she's just so…exactly what I've wanted since the day I met her.

Of course, I'm still angry with her. And we still have lots to talk about. But I'm not going to waste this opportunity.

So I pulled her into my arms and kissed her.

It wasn't a getting-to-know-you kiss, either.

There was nothing hesitant or uncertain or innocent about it.

It was the way I've always imagined kissing her - passionate and heady and full of promise.

And it went on for quite some time because I couldn't make myself stop, even though we were still in the middle of the sidewalk. People went around us, and a few of them even made snide remarks, but I just don't care.

She made a little humming noise and rose up on her toes to get a better angle.

_As if I weren't aroused enough already_.

That sound she made nearly put me over the edge, and combined with her hands gripping my shirt and her body pressed tightly against mine, I couldn't keep myself from walking her backwards until I had her pushed into the wall of the nearest storefront.

_More pressure_. Even better.

"Mike," she said huskily when she finally pulled her mouth away from mine. "We're in public."

"Then let's go somewhere_ not_ in public," I challenged.

Will she do it? Will she go back to my place with me or will she put on the brakes?

And what do _I_ want to do?

I mean, yeah, of course I know what I want to do. But I also don't want to blow this. She could never be a one-night stand for me, and if I ruin this because I'm over-anxious and I've been lusting after her for so long...

"Quit over thinking it," she told me as she grabbed my hand. "Did you drive?"

"No. My place is another two blocks."

"Let's go."

"Carolyn…"

"Let's work off some of this sexual tension first. Then we'll talk through everything else, okay? I'm not walking away again, I promise."

She's never broken a promise to me. I mean, sure, she left me high and dry without a word, but at the time, she didn't owe me anything. Like I said, even though I loved her, I kept it a secret. She didn't know.

She made a few promises to me during our partnership, and she never broke a single one.

I trusted her with my life back then.

And no matter the time that's passed, that fact hasn't changed.

So let me think about this. The woman I love, the one who nearly blew my top off with just a kiss…she wants to go back to my place and sleep with me _before_ we talk about our issues.

_And I'm still standing here considering this because…_

"Let's go."

The two-block walk lasted forever, and felt completely surreal.

I can't even look at her. I've never felt such passion in my entire life, and it's both ends of the spectrum.

I'm furious with her and I love her.

I want to yell at her and I want to kiss her.

It's all blowing my mind.

And sure, I've cared for women before. I'm a decent-looking guy in my forties. I've sure as hell been around the block a time or two.

But this is so completely different.

This was even different than what I felt for her when we were working together, because then it was an innocent one-sided crush. It was lusting from afar with no hope of achieving the goal.

Now…now I know she feels the same way, or something close to it anyway. Now every nerve ending is tuned into her. I can hear her _breathe_. I can feel her eyes on me, and I can feel her desire rolling off of her in waves.

_She cared enough about me to quit the department_.

That thought slammed through my brain, even though I've been trying to block out all rational contemplations.

I don't want to think right now.

I want to...no, I can't even say it in my head. There are all kinds of things I plan to do to her tonight, but fucking isn't one of them.

_Getting sappy, are you Mike_?

I barked out a laugh at my own strange thoughts, and she gave me a funny look, but she didn't ask. She's nervous, too, I can tell. Not about what we're getting ready to do, but about how I feel about her.

And then another thought hit me.

If I'd been brave enough to tell her how I felt before, would she have left? Or would we have worked out the Moran problem together?

It's impossible to say how things might've turned out. Maybe she wasn't even ready back then.

I mean, she admitted that when she left, she was hoping the feelings would go away.

Why? Because she _does_ know that I'm not good enough for her?

Did her time away make her now think that maybe I am?

Or has she just relegated herself to the fact that you can't help who you fall in love with?

_Or_ is she hoping that if we have sex, she'll be able to get me out of her system so that she can move on?

My steps slowed as these thoughts bogged down my brain.

"Mike?" she questioned when I came to a stop on the sidewalk. We're standing in front of my building now, although she doesn't know it.

"This is…um…this is it."

"What's wrong?"

"I just…I think maybe I've been thinking too much."

"Did you change your mind?" she asked quietly.

I looked down at her, unsure whether I've changed my mind or not.

I want her. I want her so, so much.

But I'm scared of what she can do to me.

"I'm not sure," I admitted.

"Oh. It's okay," she said, and her voice was filled with so much sadness and resignation that it nearly broke my heart.

"It's a lot to take in," I told her. I reached for her hand again and this time I brought it to my lips. I held it there, kissing the knuckles for several long seconds.

"I know. I shouldn't have rushed you. I'm…I just…Mike, I know I screwed up. I know I should've told you what was going on, and how I felt, and where I was going…"

"You shouldn't have left at all," I said.

And that was it.

I don't care about her deal with Moran. I mean, I _do_ care, but I'm not angry with her about it.

I'm upset that she left. She went away without saying goodbye, without giving me the chance to try to talk her out of it.

"I know. You're right. I'm so sorry. I wish I could go back…"

I pulled her into another hug and I can't help but notice how perfectly we fit together.

"You want to go inside?" I asked her, interrupting her apology. This whole thing is my fault, too. I'm not going to crucify her for the choices she made.

Because those choices include coming back to New York. Finding me. And admitting to everything she did.

How many people are strong enough to do that?

To own up to their mistakes?

She put her heart out there. She's the bravest damn woman I've ever known.

"Yeah. I do. We don't have to do anything. I just want to be with you."

"Uh uh…I distinctly remember you offering sex now, talk later," I teased as I unlocked the door. "You can't go back on that now."

"Are you sure I said that? Because that doesn't really sound like me," she replied, offering me an innocent smile that was somehow just the opposite.

It suddenly felt like she never left.

Except for the part about the unrequited love.

"Damn, I missed you," I told her. We were in the elevator now and it just wouldn't get to my floor fast enough.

"How many partners have you been through?" she asked, still smiling at me.

"Two. Although one of them is coming back I think."

"How many girlfriends have you been through?"

"You really want me to answer that?"

"No. Never mind. I don't think I want to know."

By this time, we were on my floor, so I hurried us down the hall and jammed the key in the lock.

I really need to get her inside.

"Not that many," I admitted, closing the door behind us. "I kept trying to find someone like you."

"No luck?"

"No. Thank God you came back," I told her.

I can't keep my hands off of her and luckily for me, I don't have to anymore.

I backed her up against the kitchen wall, repeating the position we were in earlier, out on the street, but she's a little too short for me to have access to everything, so instead I picked her up and set her on the counter. She let her head fall back against the cabinet.

"Why didn't you ever tell me how you felt," she sighed as I used my mouth to make a path from her ear down her throat to the small patch of skin that wasn't covered by her crew-neck sweater.

I stopped temporarily to pull off the obstructing garment and then, after taking a moment to appreciate the new landscape, I continued the trail even lower.

"Why didn't you?" I countered.

"I…I…oh, that feels so nice."

I looked up at her and flashed her a quick grin, thrilled with the fact that I made her lose her train of thought.

"Carolyn," I said, reminding her that there was a question on the table.

"Oh, yeah…um…I didn't think you would be…um…interested."

I stopped again, only this time to look at her with confusion.

"Have you seen yourself?"

She blushed an endearing shade of pink and then reached to run her hands through my hair.

How long has it been since someone did that? Hell, it could've been yesterday, and it wouldn't have felt anything like having her do it.

"I'm not really your type, in case you hadn't noticed."

"I have a type?"

"I…um…are we really going to talk and do this at the same time?"

"I love the sound of your voice," I told her. "I missed hearing it. And I thought I'd never hear it again. Please keep talking."

I hadn't meant to get so serious, but it's true.

And she did as I asked.

She talked to me in that low, sexy voice. She told me exactly what she wanted me to do to her, and I was more than happy to comply.

And then she told me what she was going to do to me. Even in my dirtiest fantasies, I never imagined some of the words that came out of her mouth. _And she was going to try to suggest that she wasn't my type…_

But then she said the best thing of all. And it wasn't even in the heat of the moment. It wasn't in the throes of passion. It was later. When we were done and I was leaning heavily against her where she still sat on the kitchen counter, and both of us were out of breath.

"I love you, Mike," she told me. "I'm sorry you had to wait so long to hear me say it, but it's the God's honest truth. I am so in love with you…"

TBC...


	4. Chapter 4

**Bobby POV**

* * *

I heard the knock on the door, and believe it or not, I knew it was her just by the sound. She has a very specific way of knocking.

I'm excited that she decided to come over again. She's taken to visiting me a lot while I've been on suspension. It's been tough, getting used to not seeing her every day, and it's nice to know I'm not the only one who feels that way.

"Eames, come on in."

She graced me with a lovely smile and went into the kitchen. That's where we usually hang out on these evening visits.

I locked the door and then turned to see her taking off her coat.

She's wearing a very low-cut top tucked into tight jeans.

_She wore this to work? Who's her partner this week_?

"You're staring," she told me as she raised her hand to brush the hair back from her face.

"I'm sorry," I stammered, but yet I can't stop staring.

"It's okay. I hoped that you would."

_What?_ Since when does Eames start dressing for my benefit?

"You were?"

"I've missed you," she told me, advancing on me in a predatory manner. "I like having you at work with me."

She kept stepping up closer until finally she was right in front of me, practically touching but not quite.

"But if I can't have you at work, maybe I'll have you here," she added seductively.

She reached up and grabbed me by the shirt, pulling my head down toward hers, and then...

I woke up with her name on my lips and a firm grip on…things.

And the phone was ringing.

_I've **got** to stop fantasizing about my partner._

"Yeah," I answered gruffly.

I checked the clock while I listened to Lewis rattle on about a car he'd just gotten. Ten-thirty. That's pretty late, but considering I was awake until after four, it's to be expected.

"Okay, I'll be over in a couple of hours," I told him.

It's Saturday morning, but to me it's the same as every other day of the week. Right now anyway.

My suspension is coming up on a month now and yet there's no end in sight.

Trips to the department shrink, which were suitably mortifying, combined with some impulse control classes…it's been a living hell.

Not to mention the fact that I don't get to see Alex nearly as much as I'd like.

_Except in my dreams._

She's been working by herself a lot, or partnered with random detectives. She told me she refused to be reassigned to anyone, which I think is a good sign.

If I ever had any doubts that she wants to stay on as my partner - and let's face it, I've had them - they're mostly gone now.

With me on suspension, it would've been the perfect time for her to find someone new and blame it on the brass.

But she hasn't.

In fact, she fights the brass about it on a bi-weekly basis. They want to give her someone new, but she's dug in her heels.

So anyway, sometimes she comes by in the evenings, if she has the time. She'll sit and talk about whatever case she's working on, or anything interesting that's happening at 1PP.

I honestly don't care what she talks about as long as she keeps coming over.

I'm not sure why she comes, though.

I know she feels bad about my suspension and I know she worries about me. Other than that, it's a mystery.

Maybe she misses me a little bit.

I find that hard to believe, but I don't really have another explanation for it.

But whatever her reason doesn't matter. Until I get my badge back and go back to being her partner on a regular basis, I'll make do with her sporadic visits.

Another pitfall of the suspension is money. Or rather, a lack of it. Since I've been without a paycheck for so long, Lewis offered to put me to work at his place whenever I feel the urge to get my hands dirty. This morning's call was about a 1968 Shelby Fastback, and I wouldn't pass that up, even if I _weren't_ broke.

But first I need to check in with Logan.

He called yesterday to invite me out for a drink, and I know he's been a little down about losing another partner, but Alex showed up five minutes before his phone call, and I wasn't going to send her away.

Logan's a guy. He'll understand.

Or at least he would if I could tell him the real reason why I wasn't going to meet him.

But I couldn't tell him anything because there's nothing to tell.

Or at least, nothing that doesn't sound pathetic.

I'm in love with my partner. And it's so one-sided it's ridiculous.

But I'm not going to say _that_.

So I blew him off with no explanation.

Still, I want to make sure Logan's head is in the right place. Losing partner after partner can wear a little thin on a person, and I don't want him getting depressed about it.

I called him a few times, but he's not answering his phone, so I decided to stop by his place. It's not much out of the way and it'll assuage some of my guilt for having left him alone last night.

I knocked on his door and then waited a few minutes, but there was no response.

_Did he go home with someone last night_, I wondered.

Logan does have a reputation, although I'm starting to doubt the truth behind it because I've been hanging out with him more lately and I haven't seen any evidence to back up those rumors.

I decided to knock one more time, so I banged loudly and added an accompanying, "Logan!"

"What?" was the shout from inside.

"It's Goren. Open up!"

"Give me a minute!"

Give him a minute? At eleven-thirty? There's only one reason why a man can't open his door up at eleven-thirty in the morning.

_I guess maybe there's some merit to the gossip after all_.

* * *

**Carolyn POV**

At first, I regretted saying the words.

I thought that maybe I shouldn't have rushed it. And when he didn't say them back to me, well…let's say my self-confidence took a hit.

But then I reminded myself that he's not quite up to speed with what's been going on in my head for the past fourteen months. It's going to take me a while to prove to him that he's the one for me, and that I'm not going to leave again.

He's protecting his heart from me, and I can't blame him for that.

After my delayed revelation, I decided that I'm glad I told him I love him. And I'll keep on saying it until he believes it, even if he never says it back.

And yeah, I'm hoping it won't be _never_, but still…if it takes him awhile then I'll just have to be okay with that.

Truth be told, I never expected for things to go as well as they did. I wasn't really sure _what_ to expect because I was basically coming into this blind. I know how I feel, but I don't know how he feels, then _or_ now. I know we had a bond back when we were partners and I know he had feelings for me, but I wasn't sure what kind of feelings.

The whole time I was gone, I bounced through the entire spectrum: He hates me because I left. He loves me and wants me to come back. But the worst one was that he doesn't really care either way.

See, that's why I was a little thrown when he didn't display much anger in the bar last night.

I know Mike Logan. He's a very passionate guy. When he feels, whether it's good or bad, he feels strongly.

And to think that he just didn't care enough to get upset…well, that was almost enough to make me tuck my tail and run.

But that's not who I am.

I've always gone after what I want and most of the time, I've gotten it. This time I wasn't so sure.

I know I hurt him, and while it sounds bad, at least that means that he cares. Or at least at some point he _did_ care about me. Whether or not I can convince him that I won't hurt him again is another story.

Although I certainly never expected to end up at his place. And I'm sure as hell not going to regret _that_.

But I also can't decide it it's a good thing or not.

I mean, it was _good_. It was so very good.

But what does it mean that we jumped past some of the steps? Does it mean that I'm going to be just another one in a long line of Mike Logan's lovers? Or does it truly mean as I suggested, that we get the tension out of the way and then talk?

"You are thinking way too damn much," Mike muttered. I hadn't realized he was awake, although from the sound of his voice he's only barely stirring.

"I'm sorry," I said immediately. "I didn't mean to wake you up."

And I'm wishing I hadn't because now I'm afraid that our moment is over, and dammit, I'm not ready for it to be over yet.

He was sprawled out on his stomach with one arm across my waist, anchoring me to him. The sheet and blanket had long-since fallen off the bed, so during my drawn-out introspection I was at least able to thoroughly enjoy the view.

"You really think your thoughts woke me up?" he replied with a grin, turning onto his side so that he could pull me closer. "I just know you. I know you're analyzing everything."

_Busted_.

"Well, yeah. I guess I was."

"You're wondering if this is going to be it. Or if we're going to try to make a go of it."

"And you used to tell me I was the mind-reader."

"I might have picked up a thing or two from you," he said easily, his hands beginning a slow, lazy pattern across my skin. I hadn't realized how tense I'd become until my muscles gradually began to relax from his attention.

"You must have stolen that trick from me then, because I have absolutely no idea what you're thinking," I admitted. It's actually quite disconcerting, that I can't get a read on him at all.

"I'm thinking that you're every bit as sexy as I imagined," he said huskily as he leaned in to kiss me. I let myself get lost in the kiss rather than worry about the content of his words.

Okay, so I worried some. Because I'm really hoping he's thinking about more than just sex.

"I'm thinking that I'm really glad you came looking for me last night," he continued.

"Because of the great sex?" I had to ask.

If that's all this was to him…I'm going to be crushed. Deservedly so, I guess, considering it seems I did the same thing to him when I left, but still...I'm hoping for a little happiness for both of us this time.

"Great? Phenomenal," he countered before kissing me again.

And I can't help it. I'm completely aroused despite the fact that I'm on edge, waiting to see if he'll say more.

_Please say more._

"I'm thinking we could be pretty good together," he said at last.

"Yeah?" I asked casually, as though my heart isn't doing cartwheels at the moment.

"Yeah," he whispered as he ran his hands through my hair. "You know, I thought about you…the whole time you were gone. I didn't know where you were or what was going on with you, and I just…I want to try this."

"I know it's going to take some time before you can trust me. And that's okay. But I promise you, I'm not going anywhere. It took me awhile to know what I wanted and to be okay with that. I've always been a loner, and the idea of needing someone else was a little bit hard for me to swallow. But it's finally sunk in now. I need you. And I love you."

He smiled at me and rolled me onto my back, and then he hovered over me, watching my eyes intently.

"I really missed you," he admitted earnestly, and I'm happy with that.

It's not an _I love you_, but it's close. And I can wait.

I wrapped my legs around him and pulled him to me, but at that moment, there was a pounding on the door.

"Logan!"

"Shit," Mike said, pulling back from me and getting off the bed and then walking to the bedroom doorway and shouting, "What?"

"It's Goren. Open up!"

"Give me a minute!" he yelled out and then went in search of some pants.

"Goren?" I asked as I frantically looked around for my clothes.

"Just stay in here," he said as he pulled on his jeans. "I'll get rid of him."

I stopped and stared at Mike as he grabbed a t-shirt and whipped it over his head. He looked over at me when he noticed I stopped moving.

"I don't mean that the way it sounds. I just think…I think maybe we should…"

"Keep this under wraps until we're sure?" I supplied. It hurts a little that he feels that way, but at the same time, I understand.

"Yeah," he agreed, and then he seemed to realize that it's a little bit humiliating to be left hidden in his bedroom. "Hey, don't read anything into that."

"Like what? That you don't want to have to explain it to anyone why we're suddenly not together anymore if after a week it all goes to hell?"

He crossed the room and grabbed me into a hug.

"I don't want to jinx this. It's too important," he said fervently.

He squeezed me tight and kissed the top of my head before putting his hands on my cheeks and tilting my face up toward his.

When I met his eyes, I was surprised by the depth of emotion.

"Just because I haven't been able to say it yet doesn't mean it isn't so," he told me sincerely, and my heart resumed beating again.

"Okay," I said.

"Okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, it's okay. Go get the door before he starts pounding again. I'll stay in here."

He kissed me one more time and then left the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

TBC...


	5. Chapter 5

**Logan POV**

* * *

It's been a month.

One whole month since Carolyn walked back into my life. Long enough for us to have had a few arguments, and long enough for us to have gotten over those arguments.

Certainly it was longer than any other relationship I've had in the past several years. The longest, in fact, since Gina the prison nurse. She left me after that whole incident, claiming to need to get away from the city for awhile. I never heard from her again, and I'm okay with that.

It's encouraging that Carolyn hasn't grown tired of me after this much time. I still haven't told her that I love her, not in so many words anyway.

And now that a month has passed, I almost feel superstitious about not saying it.

Am I holding back to keep her around?

Will she feel like she has me once I say it, and so then the challenge will be over?

I don't think so. Carolyn isn't the type to play games.

But at the same time, I'm afraid to change the status quo.

She tells me that she loves me every day. She never says it in an anticipatory tone, as though it's supposed to be an encouragement to get the words from me. She just seems to honestly want to let me know how she feels.

I can't believe my luck. And I guess that's part of the problem. No matter how much she tells me that she wants me and loves me, I feel like it's just dumb luck on my part.

And pretty soon, she'll realize that I'm not worth the effort.

I'm just a mutt from Brooklyn. My mom was a drunk who beat away at my self-confidence until I was the perfect target for my priest.

I'm in no way good enough for someone as great as Carolyn, and it's only a matter of time before she figures that out.

But so it's been a month, which means now it's mid-January. Wheeler's due back in another few weeks, and until then, I'm on my own. I don't know why Ross won't just partner me up with Eames for awhile, since we're both temporarily alone, but he won't do it. Maybe this is my punishment for running off another partner. Or maybe it's because Eames doesn't want to. I hope that's not the case, because I like to think of us as almost friends.

"How's it going, Logan?" Eames called to me as I entered the squad room. It's early, but she's already at her desk.

Correction – she's at _Goren's_ desk.

She seems to sit there a lot since he went on suspension. And there's no reason for it at all. He has a crappy chair. Of course, it does allow her to keep her back to Ross' office, so maybe that was why.

"Got a case, Eames?" I asked.

"Not today."

"Talk to Goren lately?"

"Yesterday," she admitted, although she kept her features schooled so as not to allow any emotion to show through. She's a tough nut to crack.

"Don't ask," she added.

I'm sure people ask her every day when he's coming back. But it's been two months now and he still hasn't gotten any word.

"Hang in there," I told her easily as I hung up my coat and sat down heavily in my chair.

"You got a call a few minutes ago," she said. "I left the message on your desk. A new girl? Not one you wanted to give your cell number to?"

"What?" I asked distractedly, ignoring her tease.

Carolyn would never call me here, and she certainly wouldn't have left her name with Eames even if she_ had_ called. We're still keeping things on the down-low.

I quickly glanced at the top of my desk and found the message written out in Eames' neat scrawl.

Rhonda Hagen. The name was a blast from the past, and not in a good way.

I met her about a month after Carolyn left.

I was in a bad way and she was…into cops. So we drank a lot of liquor and ended up at her place. Four or five different occasions, maybe. The last time, I called her Carolyn at a most inopportune time.

I felt horrible about it, but what was even worse was that she was okay with it.

_I'll be anyone you want me to be, baby_.

I just hauled ass out of there. I know I have a lot of issues, but I'm not that kind of guy.

She ended up being the reason I changed my cell phone number. She wouldn't stop calling.

She knew I worked for MCS so she called that number for awhile, too, and I had to take the embarrassing step of letting the switchboard know that I had a stalker and to please not put her calls through.

I guess since it's been a year, that memo was long gone.

And now she's calling me again. Why? If she starts another round of harassment, I'll have to talk to the switchboard again.

But surely she's not just calling me up out of the blue for another round in the sack. I mean, I'm good, but I'm pretty sure I'm not _that_ good.

But what am I supposed to do about the call? I mean, what will Carolyn say if I return a call to an old girlfriend? And okay, so she wasn't really a girlfriend, but it sounds better than the alternative.

Do I have to even mention it? Probably. Secrets aren't a good thing in a relationship, even I know that.

Shit, why did she have to call me? I know this girl. Even if I ignore her, she still won't go away. I need to get it over with.

"Hey Eames!"

"What?"

"If I'm on this phone call for more than a minute, you need to interrupt me with some urgent business, okay?"

"I _need_ to?" she clarified. Like I said, a tough nut.

"Would you please?" I asked again. She grinned at me and gave me a nod, but she didn't ask any questions. I like that about her. Goren's a lucky guy.

I picked up the phone and dialed the number.

"Mikey, is that you?" Rhonda answered. I forgot that she called me Mikey.

I rolled my eyes and held back a sigh as I asked, "What's going on, Rhonda?"

"I need your help, Mikey. You're the only homicide cop I know." I noticed she had to quantify the cop comment by including _homicide_. Like I said, she had a thing for cops, and I guess that hasn't changed.

"I'm not Homicide, I'm Major Case."

"But you investigate homicides, right?"

"Sometimes. What's this about?"

"My boyfriend is missing."

"Did you file a missing persons report?" I asked with barely restrained annoyance.

"I did!" she shouted into the phone. "They think he just left me, but I know he didn't."

I have my doubts.

"What do you want me to do about it?"

"Can you look into it for me? Please, Mikey?"

I glanced over at Eames and met her gaze. She was watching me curiously, ready to come to my rescue, but I waved her off reluctantly.

"Tell me what you know. I'll make a few calls. I can't promise anything though, okay?"

Ten minutes later, I hung up the phone. I was filled with indecision. I'm too new to this whole relationship thing, and I don't want to screw it up.

"Eames," I called out again. I know I'm getting on her nerves, but she'll tolerate me. Hell, she's probably enjoying it since Goren isn't around to annoy her.

"I'm working over here, Logan," she replied without looking from her computer.

She's not working. I can see that she's typing an email, and I'd bet my next paycheck that it's to Goren.

I got up from my desk and wandered over to hers. I smirked a little as she quickly minimized what she was working on when I went past her to sit at her desk.

"What?" she asked.

"I've got a hypothetical question for you."

"Hypothetical?" she asked dubiously. "Come on, just ask it."

I was going to ask about the whole girlfriend angle, but I just can't do it. Eames is too smart. She'll sniff out the truth in a second.

"Would you look into a case to help out an old…friend? Something off the books?"

"Rhonda?"

"Yeah. Her boyfriend is missing, or something."

"You should call Goren. He's bored out of his mind."

* * *

**Carolyn POV**

It's been a month.

I'm surprised at how well it's going, actually. We've had some ups and downs, but for the most part, things have gone pretty smoothly.

With one exception.

I'm missing something. Something I should've had ten days ago.

Because birth control wasn't exactly something I was concerned with while I was in Colombia.

I did, however, start taking it when I came back. I thought that would be good enough.

But things progressed so much more quickly than I'd anticipated.

And that first night, I can't truthfully say that I was thinking rationally and analyzing the exact amount of time the drug had been in my system. Because it usually takes a month before it's completely effective. And since it had been only two weeks…well, let's just say I'm a little concerned.

No, let's be honest. I'm a _whole lot_ concerned.

Because I love Mike Logan, and if I have anything to say about it, I plan on spending the rest of my life with him.

But it was much too soon for us, so even if I did want kids, I wouldn't want them right now. He's never even told me that he loves me.

For all I know, this could just be fun and games for him. Someone to have regular sex with until it gets boring and he moves onto the next woman.

I don't think that's the case, but it's possible.

If I wanted kids, and if I knew for sure that he loved me, then I wouldn't be quite so panicked. I would know, deep down, that this would possibly work.

But I don't want kids.

I like my life the way it is. And I'm not getting any younger, so it's not like I can say I just don't want them right now.

I used to feel guilty about that, about not wanting to procreate. I mean, that's what society has programmed women to feel. You either want kids, or you _should_ want kids. If you don't, there must be something wrong with you.

So for a while, I felt like there was something wrong with me.

When I started working at MCS, I had a whole conversation about that with Alex. Something was brought up about an old case, and Goren mentioned that it happened while she was on maternity leave, so I asked her because I knew she didn't have any kids.

She told me about the surrogacy thing. She also told me that she was happy she'd done it because not only did it give her the chance to do something monumental for her sister, but it also gave her the opportunity to experience being pregnant.

She doesn't want kids, either:

"_I love my job. And I don't think this is the kind of job where I can be both. I can either be a really good detective or a really good mom. I wouldn't want to halfway do anything, you know?"_

That's pretty much how I feel, too. _Even though right now I have no job_.

But I will soon enough, and when I do, I don't want to have to limit the traveling, or worry excessively about the danger, or have someone else put them to bed at night because I'm still out working.

I'd never really had the urge, not at any point in my life. I'd thought maybe it was because I never found the right guy, but now I've found him.

Mike is it for me.

And it's possible, maybe, that if he's really dead-set on having kids, that I'll consider it. I would certainly welcome the discussion.

Of course now, the discussion might come a hell of a lot sooner than I ever expected.

Ten freakin' days. I'm rarely late, not even a day.

What's Mike going to say? If I'm going crazy over this, what's he going to do? I mean really – of the two of us, I'm the calm and rational one. And I'm anything_ but_ calm and rational at the moment.

I'm sitting on the bed in my hotel room with two home test kits next to me. I bought two, each containing two tests, because I know I'll never believe just one. Or two. I'll surely take all four.

And yeah, I kept the hotel room. I've been staying here about half of the time. I don't want to be presumptuous and just start living with Mike.

I'm trying to find something more permanent, but I haven't found anything I like yet.

I have a feeling that makes Mike nervous, knowing that I don't have any ties to the city, but I just don't want to rush into buying a place.

Maybe if I find the right place, he'll be interested in moving in with me.

But I'll cross that bridge when I get to it. Right now I have a big enough issue to deal with.

Should I call him so that he's with me for the whole process, or only let him know once I find out the result?

Somehow that doesn't seem quite fair.

The fact that I'm late has brought up all kinds of questions that he and I will need to find the answers for together if we're really going to make this thing work.

He needs to be here with me.

So I picked up the phone and gave him a call.

"Hey, it's me. Am I catching you at a bad time?" I asked when he answered.

"It's fine. I'm at lunch," he replied, although he didn't sound quite right.

And then I heard it. A woman's voice.

But that's not what sent up the red flags.

I'm not so jealous that he can't have lunch with a female colleague.

It's that it's a flirtatious voice, and I heard her call him Mikey.

TBC...


	6. Chapter 6

**Bobby POV**

* * *

I was just about finished with the timing on the Shelby when my cell phone rang.

I know it's not Eames. I have a ring that was specific to her. I figure I'm safe with that. She'll never know, because if she's close enough to hear it ring, then she wouldn't be calling me.

Anyway, everyone else is on one ring tone, so I got out from under the hood and went to the work bench where I had set my phone.

It was Logan.

It's kind of strange that he would be calling me in the middle of the day on a workday, and I was instantly concerned.

_Has something happened to Eames? _

I grabbed the phone without even wiping off my hands.

"Goren," I answered quickly.

"It's Logan. I need a favor."

"Okay," I replied, mostly just because I'm so relieved that everything's okay.

I hate not being at work with Eames.

I hate not knowing what's going on, whether she's into something dangerous or not.

_Who's watching her back_?

It's supposed to be me.

I need to get my damn badge back.

"Are you out working on that piece of shit mustang?" he asked.

He was out here with me last weekend to hang out and check on my progress, which he jokingly classified as remarkably slow.

Lewis is letting me do most of the work myself, so it _is_ taking a while, but it's not like I have anything else to do.

"Keep calling it that," I told him. "One of these days it's going to run like a dream."

"Yeah, _in_ your dreams maybe."

"Logan, what the hell do you want?" I asked good-naturedly.

"Meet me for lunch. There's somebody that I want you to meet."

"I'm not interested," I replied quickly. He's really going to try to set me up?

"Not like that. What am I, an idiot?"

Wait a minute, what does he mean by that? That I'm not good enough for any of his friends? Or just that he knows I would never be interested? And _how_ would he know I'd never be interested?

"Like what then?" I asked cautiously, still trying to decide whether or not I should be offended.

"It's an old friend. She needs me to look into a missing persons case. She thinks maybe it's a homicide but the 6-8 isn't doing much with it."

"And you can't do it because…"

"It's a…delicate situation."

"How so, if it's an old friend?"

"An old girlfriend," he admitted.

"But in order for that to make it a delicate situation, you would have to have a current girlfriend."

"Well…"

"You do? Who? For how long?"

We just drank beer and looked at cars together last Saturday, and he didn't mention a girlfriend. And the fact that he seems to want to keep it a secret makes it even more suspicious.

Who is this girlfriend and why doesn't he want to tell me about her?

"What are you, my mother? Sheesh, Goren. Let it go. Can you meet me or not?"

Hell yeah, I'm going to meet him.

"I'm going to head out in a few minutes," I told Lewis after I hung up with Logan.

"Going to meet Detective Alex?" he asked hopefully. _I wish_.

"No, Logan. He's got something he wants me to look into."

"You ditching the Shelby?"

"No," I assured him. "I'll be back, but it'll probably be tomorrow."

"Okay. Bring her with you."

"Eames?"

"Yeah," he replied with a smile. "She likes cars."

It's true. She does like cars. Maybe that'll be a good excuse to get her to spend some more time with me.

_And Lewis_, I amended as he continued to stand there grinning like an idiot.

He's shameless in his pursuit of her. But he's also harmless enough, and she seems to find it amusing. In fact, they usually spend quite a bit of time tossing flirtatious remarks back and forth to each other, so it'll probably be relaxing for her.

"Yeah, okay. I'll see," I promised. "I don't know what she's got going on at work."

And again that bugs me. What more do I have to do to get my badge back?

I left the garage and headed downtown. Logan said to meet him at a diner near 1PP, one that Eames and I frequented back when we were still working together.

I wonder if she's brought any other partners here.

_Get over yourself, Goren, _I chastised myself. I'm not her lover, I'm her partner.

And right now I'm not even that.

That thought depresses the hell out of me, but I went into the diner still hoping that I might run into Eames.

I was a little early, so I found a booth near the back with a good view of the door. I wanted to observe Logan and his friend as they came in.

And yeah, I'll admit it. I've been a little bored lately. I'm itching for a puzzle, and right now, Logan is all I have.

After about ten minutes, I watched a woman enter the diner. She was fairly tall, nice-looking, well-made up…I instantly pegged her for Logan's _friend_.

And then upon closer inspection, I noticed a few more things.

She was dressed impeccably, and had enough jewelry on to be able to open up her own shop. And it was very expensive-looking jewelry. Her hair was light brown with professionally done streaks of blonde running through it, and her nails were perfectly manicured.

Then I started wondering how Logan might have ended up with a woman like her. Not that he's not a nice guy, but she doesn't look like the type of woman who would consider spending time with a cop, someone who couldn't possibly make enough money to keep her happy.

She stood in the entryway of the diner and looked distastefully over all of the patrons before checking her watch.

So despite my confusion about the mismatch, I'm still pretty sure she's Logan's friend.

And I was right.

Logan arrived a minute later and greeted her stiffly. She went for the tight hug, but he managed to maintain some distance. In fact, I've seen Logan act friendlier toward suspects, so now my curiosity was through the roof.

He caught a glimpse of me and directed the woman to my table.

"Rhonda, this is my friend Detective Goren," he introduced as I stood up. "Detective Goren, Rhonda Hagen."

Obviously he wants to keep her on a formal level with me. I shook her hand politely and we all sat down.

Normally I would've said Logan was being territorial, but considering his greeting with her, I know that something else is going on here.

Because he seems _very_ uncomfortable.

I don't really blame him though. I'm uncomfortable and I don't even know her. She just exudes this kind of barracuda-vibe that has me wishing I was still under the hood of that Shelby.

"So fill me in," I said, cutting to the chase. I figure Logan wants this meeting to be as short as possible, and I'm right there with him.

"Mikey said you'd help me," Rhonda said.

_Mikey?_ I flashed Logan a look, barely able to contain the smirk, and he rolled his eyes.

"Her boyfriend," he began, emphasizing the word _boyfriend_, "was last seen three days ago. She filed a report with the 6-8. It has been suggested that he left town on his own, but Rhonda thinks something has happened to him."

And then Logan's phone rang, and he answered without looking.

_A specific ring tone_, I mused. The new girlfriend.

Rhonda ignored the fact that he was on the phone and slid a photo across the table to me.

"This is him. Walter Raleigh."

"Like the writer," I commented. At her confused look, I added, "The explorer."

"Huh?"

"Roanoke Island?"

I don't know why I was even still trying.

"It's fine. I'm at lunch," Logan was saying.

"Anyway, Mikey said you'd help me find him, isn't that right, Mikey?" she asked loudly, rubbing her hand on Logan's arm.

He looked mortified and got out of the booth, still talking softly on the phone.

"I'll be there," he was saying. _He's going to leave me here with this woman_?

He motioned that he'd be right back and then he walked toward the front of the diner, and Rhonda watched him the whole time.

"So, um…Walter. How long have you been with him?" I asked. She reluctantly stopped watching Logan and turned back to me.

"Two months."

"And he's…how old?"

I'm guessing he's nearly as old as the Walter Raleigh I'd been referring to. Ancient.

"He's sixty-eight, but he has a young heart," she said with a smile. Then she turned to look at Logan again.

"When was the last time you saw him?"

"It was Tuesday. I went over to Fifth Avenue to do some shopping and when I got home, he was gone."

"So you live with him?"

"Yeah," she replied, somewhat defensively.

Logan came back, but he didn't sit down. _Shit_.

"I'm sorry, but I need to run."

"You catch a case?" I asked although I know damn well he didn't.

To his credit, he didn't lie to me. He just didn't answer. But he did flash me an apologetic look.

"Rhonda, Detective Goren is one of the best there is. He'll help you."

"You're not staying, Mikey?"

"No, I've um…I've really got to…run."

He left the diner without giving either of us a chance to say anything further.

Rhonda turned back to me and gave me a big predatory smile.

"So, Detective," she began, turning all of her charm onto me. "Do you have a first name?"

He's really going to owe me big for this one.

And then it got worse.

The very next minute, Eames walked in the door.

On my way over here, I was hoping desperately that she'd stop by, but now that I'm stuck at this table with Rhonda the Man-eater…I just knew Eames would get the wrong idea.

I watched her as she scanned the diner in typical cop fashion.

Her gaze settled on mine and a smile began to cross her face until her eyes jumped to my companion. Then the smile disappeared just as quickly.

I got up from the table.

"I'll be right back," I told Rhonda. There's no way I'm going to let this misconception last for any longer than it'll take me to cross the diner.

"Eames," I greeted her warmly. "How are you?"

"Good. Your date is missing you," she said as she looked past me to where I had been sitting. I turned around and found that Rhonda was leaning out of the booth to watch me.

"She is _not_ a date," I insisted, probably more vehemently than was necessary. "Logan…"

"Ah. Say no more," Eames replied quickly. Does she look relieved or is that just my imagination? "This is his…old friend?"

"Yeah," I confirmed. "He was here for about two minutes and then he ditched me."

"She has a case?"

"I don't know. We're just getting started. Want to sit in on it with me?"

"I need to get back. I was just going to pick up something to go."

"Come on, Eames," I pleaded openly. "It'll be like old times."

She smirked at me and gave me a little shrug.

"I guess I can stay for a few minutes. If you think she won't mind," she added sarcastically.

"You should've seen her on Logan," I told her conspiratorially. I leaned in close to say this, as though it were a secret, although in truth I just wanted to catch a whiff of her shampoo. Shameless, I know.

"On Logan?" she asked, keeping the distance between us minimal.

Is it just me or is she enjoying the closeness as much as I am?

"All over him," I said. "And then he got a phone call and he had to leave. As soon as he was gone, she turned it on me."

"Isn't she supposed to be worried about a missing boyfriend?"

"Yeah. He's nearly seventy. And I'm betting he's loaded. I don't think she's too worried about him."

"Well, come on then," she said with a smile. "Let's go see what Miss Gold-digger has to say."

Have I mentioned how much I love Eames?

TBC...


	7. Chapter 7

**Logan POV**

* * *

I only felt marginally bad about leaving Goren with Rhonda. I probably would've felt worse under normal circumstances, but Carolyn has me worried.

She wants me to come by her hotel. In the middle of a workday. And she wouldn't say why.

To say I'm sweating bullets would be a gross understatement.

It's a miracle that I even hopped on the right subway because I can't seem to focus on my surroundings at all.

_What's wrong?_

_Is she going to leave again?_

If that's it, at least this time she's going to say goodbye.

Only there wouldn't be any goodbyes because there's no way I'm going to let her go anywhere. Not without me, anyway.

If it's something she has to do, some place she just has to go, well…then I'm going with her.

_Unless she's tired of me_.

I shoved down that depressing thought as I got off at 8th and 14th and then blindly walked the three blocks to her hotel.

I wish she would've just told me on the phone. Then I could have a response ready, a course of action planned out.

But whatever it is, I didn't think it's that she's tired of me, because as I got to the hotel, I saw her waiting out front.

She looks apprehensive, nervous. Hell, she looks pale and a little scared.

"Talk to me," I told her before we even went inside.

"Let's go up to the room."

"Carolyn."

"Please."

I followed her without another word as she took my hand and together we went up to her room.

I've spent some time in here over the past month. I know she's trying to give me my space by not staying at my place all of the time, but I usually end up here on the nights that she leaves me alone.

I got used to sleeping with her pretty quickly and it's tough to go back to sleeping alone. I don't _want_ to go back to sleeping alone.

"Say it. Whatever it is, just say it," I told her once the door was closed and we were alone. I couldn't wait another second.

"Two things," she began. "But I'll start with the reason why I called you. I bought a pregnancy test today."

Okay, I'm not sure why, but I never remotely expected that. It stands to reason that the possibility would've entered my mind, but it just didn't. Not at all. I was speechless.

"Actually, I bought two," she amended. She began to shift from one foot to the other and I know I'm making things worse by not responding.

"How…um…how late…uh…"

"Ten days."

"I…do…um…"

_Very nice, Mike_. I can't even string two words together.

This is all my fault. I'm usually so much more careful about these things. Religious about it, actually. I never ask the woman if anything is needed, because as far as I'm concerned, it's _always_ needed.

And yet, with Carolyn things just got so…

Huh.

I guess it was pretty irresponsible of us to not discuss it. She'd never mentioned it, so I had assumed things were under control. _Brilliant, Mike_.

"I was going to do this by myself, but I figured you would want to know what was going on," she said since I can't seem to communicate. I'm being an ass and I need to get a handle on myself and the situation, so I pulled her into my arms.

"Thank you. Thank you for calling me and letting me know. I wouldn't want you to do this alone."

I felt her relief as she sagged against me. I could only imagine the things that have been going through her mind.

I have no idea if she wants kids or not, but surely right now, with me, isn't part of her plan.

"Should we talk about this first?" she asked.

"About what we want to do?"

"Yeah."

"No. I think that whatever we say now may change once we know for sure. It's two different things to have a discussion in hypotheticals versus one in facts."

"Okay," she agreed. "I'm sorry. This is my fault."

"Your fault? I'm pretty sure I was there."

"I…I…started taking pills, but…they may not have had enough…time in my system before that…um…that first night."

"I should've asked," I told her. "This is both of us, okay?"

She nodded and grabbed one of the boxes off of the bed.

"Let me…do what I have to do and then we'll wait together."

"Okay."

"I'll be right back."

* * *

**Alex POV**

I'm really glad that I picked today to go to the diner. I've been avoiding it quite a bit lately because it's mostly cops with their partners.

Since I still don't have my partner back, it's easier to grab something and eat at my desk.

Or _his_ desk.

I've been sitting at his so much lately that mine is gathering cobwebs. But it's easier to sit in his chair than to sit in mine because then all I do is stare at his empty chair.

Ross is keeping my case load light, which is a little annoying. I need work to keep my mind off of things, but I figure that this is his payback for my steadfast refusal of getting another partner.

Although I offered to work with Logan, since I know his situation was temporary, too, but Ross declined.

He doesn't like Logan for some reason.

I don't know why, unless it was more of that alpha-male thing. Ross hates Goren, too, so I guess that makes sense. In a back-asswards Ross kind of way.

I don't mind Logan. He's a little brash, but he has a great sense of humor. And he's a good cop. I also know that he hangs out with Bobby on occasion and I'm glad for that.

I'd like to hang out with Bobby a little more myself, but I don't want it to look suspicious.

I have to pace myself. I actually keep track of how many evenings I go by his place so that it doesn't start to look inappropriate. _Unpartnerlike_.

I can't believe how long this suspension has lasted. Moran really has a case of the ass for Bobby on this one.

But I'll work alone until retirement if I have to because I'm not going to get another partner.

When I went into the diner, I was trying to decide if it was too soon for me to go back to Bobby's house. I went over there on Wednesday evening, and it's only Friday, but at the same time, we've been hanging out together a lot of Fridays, so it might not occur to him to question it.

I just don't want him to start asking why I'm coming over so much. I don't want to have to admit how much I miss him.

Since I was thinking about him, it was quite the surprise to see that he was sitting in the diner when I went in. I smiled, already deciding what fib I could tell Ross about why I was going to be late coming back from lunch.

But then I saw her.

_Oh my God, he is here with a date_.

I turned back toward the counter, not wanting to further analyze this latest turn of events. Of course, my mind wouldn't let me off the hook that easily.

_He can date if he wants to, Alex_.

He's a single man.

A good-looking single man.

A good-looking single man with what is probably a healthy sexual appetite…

_Shit_.

I have no claim to him. I can't be mad, but I am.

I watched out of the corner of my eye as he hopped up from his seat and hurried to me.

"Eames," he said. "How are you?"

"Good. Your date is missing you," I told him. She stared at his ass the whole time he was walking over to me.

"She is not a date," he said quickly. "Logan…"

And then I had it. Logan and his damn ex-girlfriend. It was my own fault for suggesting that he get Bobby involved, but how was I supposed to know she would look like that?

"Ah. Say no more. This is his…old friend?"

He told me that Logan had introduced them and then left in a hurry. I made a mental note to kick Logan in the ass the next time I saw him.

But then he asked me to sit with him.

"I need to get back. I was just going to pick up something to go," I replied, as though I weren't chomping at the bit to get over there and stake my claim.

And I know, I _have _no claim.

But I know how to be passive-aggressive with the best of them. I can get the point across to her without Bobby having any idea what's going on.

"Come on, Eames," he pleaded in that endearing voice that I'm never able to resist. "It'll be like old times."

If I hadn't already planned on it, that would've sealed the deal.

"I guess I can stay for a few minutes," I agreed. And then because I couldn't resist a little barb, I added, "If you think she won't mind."

He leaned in to softly say something about the woman hanging on Logan. I can't say for sure exactly what he said because I was more attuned to his proximity than I was his voice.

_Act like a professional, Alex_.

I'm getting all hot and bothered just because he's leaning in close to me. It's not like I've never been with a man before.

_But never this man_, I reminded myself.

And this is the one I want to be with.

Now what was he saying again? I stayed close and repeated the end of his statement which is a trick for pretending like you're listening when you're really not.

"On Logan?"

"All over him," he said. "And then he got a phone call and he had to leave. As soon as he was gone, she turned it on me."

Ah, so that was it. She's on the prowl and any available man will do.

_Well, this man isn't available._

When did I turn into such a jealous person? And over someone who isn't even mine?

I need to focus before I start acting as bad as the bimbo at the table. What was it Logan had said about her? Oh yeah.

"Isn't she supposed to be worried about a missing boyfriend?"

"Yeah. He's nearly seventy. And I'm betting he's loaded. I don't think she's too worried about him."

"Well, come on then," I said with a smile. "Let's go see what Miss Gold-digger has to say."

I led the way to the table and slid in opposite the woman, knowing full well that Bobby would slip in beside me.

He did.

And it wasn't a large booth, so I could feel his leg against mine. Of course, I didn't moved over as far as I could either, but…

"Rhonda Hagen, this is my partner Detective Eames," Bobby introduced.

"Oh, you get to work with him every day?" she gushed. "Aren't you the lucky one?"

"I think so," I replied pointedly.

We had a nice little stare-down that lasted several seconds. She's assessing my threat-level and I'm surely emitting at least a level Orange.

"So," Bobby began hesitantly. He recognized that he was in the middle of something, but I'm pretty sure he's clueless as to exactly what. "Rhonda was telling me that her boyfriend went missing on Tuesday. She went shopping, and when she got home, he was gone."

"This is the boyfriend?" I asked, pulling the photo closer to me. It was an old guy, and not even a nice-looking old guy.

"Walter Raleigh," Bobby told me with a mischievous look.

"Like the explorer," I said quickly. His answering grin just melted my heart.

We spent the next twenty minutes mapping out a list of avenues to explore and fact-gathering from Rhonda, and then when she'd outlasted her usefulness, I sent her on her way.

Bobby and I stayed a few minutes longer. He ordered me lunch to go, since I spent my time sitting there with him. I know Ross is going to ream me for being gone so long, but I can't bring myself to care. What would I be doing anyway, besides paperwork?

"So I'm going to get started on this," Bobby said. "I'll give the detectives at the 6-8 a courtesy call and find out their take on it."

"Call me if you need any help," I offered.

The waitress brought my sandwich in a Styrofoam box and I was reluctant to leave, but it was past time.

Bobby was slow to slide from the seat, having stayed on the same side with me even after Rhonda left. I got out and pulled on my coat and then he followed me outside.

"Hey, um…I'm working on a Shelby out at Lewis' garage. You want to um…go out there with…me? Tomorrow? You know, check it out?"

"A Fastback?" I asked, as though that made a difference as to whether or not I'd accept the invitation.

"Yeah. '68."

"Sure. What time? I'll come pick you up."

"Maybe around ten?"

"Okay. I'll see you then," I told him.

TBC...


	8. Chapter 8

**Carolyn POV**

* * *

I peed on the stick and then set it on the counter and went back into the other room.

Now to wait five minutes…

I sat down next to Mike and he immediately picked up my hand. I know he's nervous, but I have to appreciate how supportive he's being.

I don't blame him for being speechless when I first mentioned it because, well, I've had the past ten days to come to terms with the possibility.

So far he's only had a few minutes. I'm sure as hell not going to judge him for his slow response. The fact that he hasn't run from the room is a good sign.

And now we sit together quietly, waiting to see if our lives will be forever changed.

"Whatever the result, we do this together," he said softly.

"I know."

"I'm not going to walk away," he assured me.

"I'm not either."

And then it hit me.

_That's_ what he's been afraid of.

_Can I blame him_?

I turned to look at him and waited for his to meet mine.

"You thought that was what I was calling you about. You thought I was going to leave."

"It crossed my mind," he replied. He was going for casual, but he didn't quite pull it off.

"I don't know how to convince you," I said on a sigh because I'm frustrated, but not with him.

With _me_.

Words will never convince him that I won't leave again. It'll just take time.

I really screwed up by leaving the first time, and even though we hadn't been together then, I should've known better.

I'm an expert at reading people and yet I missed the signs. I didn't know he had feelings for me.

Maybe my own emotions and insecurities had blinded me to it, I don't know.

Whatever the case, I need to keep that foremost in my mind until Mike is comfortable with the fact that I'm in love with him and I'm not going anywhere.

Mysterious phone calls asking him to come see me in the middle of the day, well…that's only going to keep him on edge. And that isn't fair.

"I just couldn't tell you on the phone," I explained. "I wanted to see your face. I didn't think about what conclusions you might come to."

"I understand. It's okay."

"You're being too easy on me."

"I…um…since we have a few minutes, I wanted to tell you something, too."

I knew immediately what he meant. _Shit_. I'd actually forgotten about the woman's voice.

Now I'm the one in a panic, but I don't want to let him see it.

"Just say it," I encouraged. "It's okay."

"What's okay?"

"If you met someone. I kind of pushed you into this whole serious-relationship thing. I can't expect you to drop everything for me just because I came back to town."

He sighed and fell back on the bed, laying crossways with his legs dangling off the edge.

"What?" I asked. He scrubbed his hands over his face for a second and then dropped them so that he could look at me. He reached up to take hold of my arm and then he pulled me down with him.

"We're both so fucked up," he told me with a grin.

"What?" I asked again.

"I didn't meet someone. I don't _want_ to meet anyone. I'm with you, and I'm happy about that."

"But when I called you…I heard a woman's voice. She called you Mikey."

"That was an old girlfriend. She called me because she wanted me to look into a case for her. I bumped her off on Goren because I didn't want to spend time with her. I didn't want you to get the wrong idea. We met for lunch and I introduced her to him. That's when you called."

"Oh." Now I really feel stupid. And ridiculously female.

"I should've told you," he added.

"When did she call?"

"This morning."

"So you knew for all of, what…four hours and you didn't call me?" I teased, finally relaxing and reminding myself that I'm not_ this_ person. I need to give him some room and ease up on the jealousy.

"You don't need to be sorry at all," I continued. "You didn't do anything wrong. In fact, you didn't have to bump her off on Goren. You could've helped her out yourself. I trust you."

"Do you?" he asked, and we were suddenly serious again. I turned over onto my stomach and pushed up onto my elbows so that I could see his face.

"I…well, yeah. I do," I told him.

"Are you sure? I know what people think of me."

"I don't care what other people think. Do you know why I trust you? Because you're honest. I trust that you're here with me because you want to be and if that ever changes, I trust that you'll tell me rather than try to find some other means of escape."

He seemed genuinely touched by my opinion of him, and it hurts me to think he expected less from me.

_Expects less from everyone because he's always been treated badly_.

But I'm not everyone. He should be able to expect more from me.

He ran his hand along my hair and worked some of the strands between his fingers.

"I met her after you left," he said. "I was…in a bad way, and…she was…there. There wasn't any emotional involvement."

It breaks my heart every time I realize how much I hurt him. It's something I can never take back, and yet I'm not sure I would if I could. There was no way to know if we would've been right for each other without this time in between.

"How long did it last?" I asked, knowing he wants to tell me about her since she popped back into his life. _Into our lives_. They're one and the same now.

"A month maybe. But not like a month with us. A month of getting together once or twice a week at the most."

"What happened?"

He flashed a quick grin and moved his hand down to cup my cheek.

"I called her Carolyn."

"In bed?" I asked. I don't really want the visual, but I was taken by surprise and the words just came out.

He nodded.

"I was attracted to her because she was nothing like you. I wanted to wipe you from my mind. But I couldn't keep from trying to make her into you."

He's so sweet. And so genuine, which makes it even better. He didn't make the statement to manipulate me or charm me…he said it because it was true.

I scooted closer to him so that I could kiss him. It was soft and slow and reverent…I could kiss him like this all day.

And then I remembered why he was here, in the middle of the workday. Ross is probably hopping mad about now, and my test result is probably waiting.

But I still kept kissing him. The result won't be any different in a few more minutes.

He put his arms around me and pulled me over so that I was fully on top of him. _This is much better_. His hands made steady tracks from my head down as low as they could reach and then back up again.

And we still kept kissing. I can't get enough.

I ran my hands through his hair and shifted against him. He let out a sound that was almost like a growl and then flipped us over on the bed so that I was underneath him.

"It's been five minutes," he said in a raspy tone, and yet he didn't make a move to get up.

In fact, he started unbuttoning my shirt in a slow, methodical way that had me aching for him to hurry.

It was deliciously agonizing and he held my gaze the entire time, his eyes dark and hungry.

I was nearly undone before he had my blouse off.

"Mike…" I began, although I lost track of what it was I wanted to say. And then I remembered. "Hurry."

"Uh uh. I'm not in any hurry at all."

"You have to get back," I reminded him, although I couldn't care less about Ross. I just wanted him to _get to it_.

"I told him I wouldn't be back today," he told me as he pulled down the zipper on my slacks bit by bit.

_Oh_.

My phone call prompted him to take the afternoon off.

I feel guilty and pleased at the same time.

"Because…of…because of me?" I managed to ask. He has the most wonderful hands, and as they slid into the sides of my pants so that he could pull them down my legs, well…I closed my eyes against the heightened sensations.

"I knew something was wrong. I didn't want to be watching the clock."

It was ironic that ultimately we began this get-together literally watching the clock. Although, now the time is the furthest thing from our minds.

I opened my eyes again, reveling in the intensity I found in his stare.

He had me completely bare by this point, although he hasn't removed a thing. He even still has on his jacket and tie.

I would've expected to feel a little self-conscious. A little insecure maybe.

But under the weight of his admiring gaze, I just feel…special…and beautiful…and loved.

He stood up and began taking off his suit, his eyes never leaving mine the entire time. Again, he was systematic and moved at a leisurely pace as though we have all the time in the world.

And I guess we do.

But I'm on fire on the inside, and I'm not sure how much longer I can wait.

Especially now that I'm able to look at him fully.

He hesitated for a moment, and I wondered if he feels unsure of himself. I can't imagine why he would, but I know he has self-confidence issues.

I purposefully let my eyes take a deliberate path down the length of his body, and then back up to meet his eyes.

"I never get enough of looking at you," I told him honestly. He smiled a little and started toward me and then he stopped.

"Do I um…need…?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Either the pills have had plenty of time to work, or it's too late to worry about it," I replied logically.

He paused for a beat and then smiled broadly before quickly joining me on the bed, and I thought I finally had him moving at the increased speed that I've been looking for, but then he slowed it back down.

"Mike, you're killing me here," I moaned as he resumed alternately caressing and kissing in all of the right places. The man has clearly made notes as to exactly which areas to focus on.

"You want me to stop?" he teased. He knows damn well I don't.

"Hell no," I said breathlessly. "I want you to put it in high gear."

As I said the words, I pushed at his chest and shoved him off of me and onto his back so that I could take over.

He had the nerve to look very pleased with himself at my desperation, but I'm okay with that. He deserves the self-satisfaction. He _does_ have me worked up. All I can think about is…well, I don't even want to think.

I just want to _do_.

So I did. _We_ did.

And when we were done, and I was lying sprawled across his chest, he once again started playing with the ends of my hair.

I relaxed for a moment to allow my heart rate to get back to somewhat normal.

_To allow his heart rate to get back to normal, too,_ I realized. I was surprised to feel it thundering beneath me as he took deep, steadying breaths.

"Are you okay?" I asked him.

"Yeah," he replied.

"We should probably go look at that test."

"Yeah."

But he didn't move. In fact, he tightened his hold on me to keep me in place.

"Carolyn," he said in his low rumbling tone.

"What is it?" I asked.

I know he's worried about the test.

_I'm _worried about the test.

But we have to face reality.

So he caught me off guard when he took one more deep breath and then leaned and spoke into my ear.

"I love you."

TBC...


	9. Chapter 9

**Logan POV**

* * *

I was surprised by how easily the words actually came out.

I've put it off for too long, and I nearly hyperventilated in the moments before saying them, but then once I opened my mouth, well…it was just the most natural thing in the world.

Because I do love her.

I've been in love with her since around the time of the Garrett case.

Maybe even sooner.

Maybe it was when she spoke French to the addict in the flophouse to get information, or maybe it was when she offered me fresh vegetables while we were on a stakeout.

I don't know. But it feels like forever.

And now we have this test to think about.

I needed to tell her _before_ we checked the results.

Because if it comes back positive, I don't want her to think that was the reason for me sticking around. If we have a baby, she'll forever wonder if that was the only reason I stay. I can't let her have those kinds of doubts.

I need her to know that regardless of the test, positive or negative, I love her.

And my declaration was very well received. In fact, it nearly sparked off round two of our afternoon.

But after a few long, heated moments, we finally bit the bullet.

We headed for the bathroom together.

"I don't want to look," she admitted.

And I realized that I have no idea what she's hoping for.

How crazy is that?

We've literally never talked about kids. So maybe that was my answer. Surely if she wanted them, the subject would've come up by now. Wouldn't it?

I stopped her in the doorway with a gentle hand on her waist.

"What do you want?" I asked her.

"I…I…um…don't…um…I don't want to say."

"Why not?"

"I don't want to say it out loud. Then if it's the opposite, I'll feel bad for having wished it to be different."

I let that sink in for a minute.

She's a complex woman.

"But you already think one way," I reminded her.

"Yeah."

"Saying it out loud won't change how it makes you feel. Not saying it to me, anyway."

I want her to share this with me. I want her to get in the habit of not censoring any of her thoughts.

We stood in the doorway, with her leaning back against one side and me leaning back against the other.

"I don't want kids," she said finally. And then she looked at me expectantly, like she thought I would be disappointed or sad or…something.

"Ever or right now?" I asked her.

"Ever. I've never had the urge," she admitted. "I thought I was waiting for the right guy, but I've found you. You're the right guy. But it still doesn't change how I feel about it."

"Okay," I said easily. And I have to admit that I'm slightly relieved. It won't change the outcome of the test, but at least I know we're on the same page for the future.

"Okay? That's it?"

"I'm happy with my life the way it is," I told her. "Well, I am now that we're together."

She nodded thoughtfully and then looked toward the counter.

"So let's do this," she said.

It was negative.

I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding, and she did the same thing.

"Oh, thank God," she said. "I…um…wow. I just thought for sure it was going to be positive."

"But you're not disappointed?" I asked. I need to be sure.

"No. No, I just kept thinking about how I don't even have a place to live, and I didn't even know for sure how you felt about me…I mean, I know now, but I didn't until about ten minutes ago, and then I was thinking about work and our relationship and I'm not getting any younger and…"

"Carolyn. Breathe."

She smiled and wrapped her arms around me.

"I think we should move in together," I told her, somewhat surprising myself with the words. But I feel bad that I've kept her guessing about my feelings.

I never meant to keep her on the hook about it. I was simply trying to protect myself.

Which is silly, really.

It was kind of like the same thing I told her just a minute ago.

Keeping a thought in my head instead of speaking it out loud doesn't change its existence. Whether I say to her that I love her or only think it in my head, it'll still be devastating for me if she were to leave me.

And I have to start believing in her. I have to trust her.

I know she realizes it was a mistake the first time around. Not so much the leaving part. That's debatable, and maybe we needed to be apart before we could be together.

I don't know.

But I do know that she regrets not talking to me about it, and not saying goodbye.

It was wrong of her to walk away without a word. But she knows that. And she's allowed to make mistakes. Lord knows I make more than my fair share.

I need to forgive her and move on if this thing is going to work.

Aside from that, I really want to live with her. I miss her when she's not around, and I don't need my space or her space. I just need our space.

"You do?" she asked, still standing firmly against my chest.

"Yeah, but not at my place. Let's find something together."

* * *

**Alex POV**

It was freezing cold outside, but Lewis had the heat pumping in his garage. I mean, really cranking. I had long since shed my coat, and I was considering losing the sweater as well.

I'm not going to complain about the heat, though, because it was making Bobby sweat.

And I have to admit to enjoying the view a little.

Okay, _a lot_.

He started out dressed in jeans and a t-shirt with a flannel shirt over top of it, but he got rid of the flannel shirt as soon as we arrived. I guess he was used to the temperature in this place.

So now he has on a tight fitting black t-shirt and his jeans. Jeans that mold perfectly to his ass as he stands bent over the V-8 Cobra Jet engine of the Shelby.

I know, because I've spent the past hour looking at it, analyzing it from different angles. It's a work of art.

His ass, not the engine.

And watching him has sent my mind wandering down paths that are going to get me into trouble.

What would he say if he knew that his straight-laced partner was having fantasies about him?

What would he do if I were to go up to him right now and…

"Pretty sweet, huh?"

"What?" I asked, forcing myself to look away from the object of my lust.

Lewis was offering me a bottle of beer and rapidly looking back and forth between me and Bobby as though he was trying to determine the exact direction of my gaze.

"The Shelby," he said, a slow grin making its way across his face.

_Oh my God_. I'm busted.

"Yeah, it's…it's um…great," I managed to say.

Lewis caught me staring at Bobby's ass. Now he's going to tell him.

I could feel the blush heating my face.

"It's pretty warm in here, isn't it?" I asked, as though that were the reason for my red cheeks.

"Yeah, the furnace is broken," he replied. And he seemed to be letting me off the hook, because he casually sat down on the counter next to me. "It's either Arctic or Sahara, nothing in between."

"I think it's ready," Bobby called out as he stood back from the car. He stretched his back for a minute, working out the kinks caused by such a long period of time in the same position.

I wanted to offer to help him out with that. I could work on his back. I would run my hands down…

"Want to try it?" he asked me, breaking through my thoughts.

_Alex, get your damn mind out of the gutter_.

I don't know what my problem is lately.

Maybe I'm just missing him too much at work, so now I'm trying to assimilate him into my life in any way I can.

Maybe it's that I'm tired of hiding my feelings.

Maybe I realize that jobs come and go, and while work is of course very important, so is happiness. I'd like to see if Bobby can make me happy. I'm pretty damn sure he can.

"Eames?"

"Yeah?"

"You want to try it out?" he asked again, holding the keys out to me.

"Sure," I said.

I hopped down off the counter. I could feel the sweat running down my back, so the sweater had to go. I felt underneath to make sure that my t-shirt was still tucked in, and then I whipped the sweater off my head and tossed it on the counter.

I turned around to Bobby to get the keys and I realized he was staring at me.

"What?" I asked innocently. "It's hot. Give me the keys."

And okay, so maybe the move wasn't entirely uncalculated. Maybe I want to see if I can get some kind of reaction out of him.

And I did.

He handed me the keys without a word, but his eyes were slow to shift back to my face and his cheeks colored slightly.

And because I was feeling a little heady just knowing that Bobby had looked at me like that, even if it was only for a few seconds, I stopped in front of him.

"You've got some…" I began, and then I licked my thumb and used it to wipe a spot of grease off of his cheek.

"Thanks," he said quietly.

He kept his eyes on mine the whole time I was touching him, and I realized that maybe I had pushed it a little too far.

It was supposed to be casual.

It was supposed to be a slight tease, maybe give him something to think about.

Because I want him to start thinking about me that way.

Instead, it backfired. It caused my heart to race and my stomach to flutter, and the way he's watching me, I just know that he knows what I'm thinking.

I'm in so much trouble.

"Hey, you've got to actually put the key in the ignition if you want to start the car," Lewis called out, breaking the spell that we seemed to be under.

I immediately stepped away and went over to the open driver's side door.

I can't believe what I had just did. Bobby and I _do not_ touch. Not intentionally anyway. Not like that. What was I thinking?

I have to get a grip on myself and quit acting like a damn teenager.

I shoved the keys into the ignition and turned it over, and the engine rumbled to life.

I spent the better part of the day at the garage with Bobby, and I managed to get past my hormonal awkwardness.

No more impulsive touching.

No more staring.

Well, okay, I did stare, but I made sure not to get caught.

I dropped him off at his place a little before six, and then I headed for home. He had been excited that the Shelby's engine overhaul had been successful, and his mood was infectious. It had been such a pleasure to see him happy for so many hours in a row.

When it was time for bed, I decided that I needed to watch a movie, something that would require my full attention because I don't want to dream about Bobby. I've been doing that too much lately, and it's obviously affecting my judgment during the daytime.

I climbed under the covers and started watching the movie, but then my phone rang. I knew it was Bobby because I have a specific ring tone assigned to him.

How am I supposed to avoid dreaming about him if he's going to call me right before I go to sleep?

Oh well. They were pretty good dreams.

And it's not like this movie thing was going to work anyway. Not after watching Bobby all day in his jeans and t-shirt, all sweaty and greasy…

"Eames," I answered.

"Did I wake you up?"

"No, but if you want to give it another half an hour, I'm sure you will."

"So, you're…in…bed?" he asked hesitantly. It was eleven o'clock on a Saturday night. Where else would I be?

"Yeah. What's up?"

"That detective from missing persons finally called me back. At the 6-8."

"Morgan?"

"Yeah, him. He wanted to let me know that it's no longer a missing persons case."

"The explorer has returned?" I quipped.

"No. He's dead."

TBC...


	10. Chapter 10

**Bobby POV**

* * *

Saturday had to be about the best day of my life so far. And how sad is that?

Because there wasn't much to it except that I was with Alex.

And the car worked.

But the car coming to life was secondary to my revelation about Alex.

I think that maybe she's interested in me.

I felt her eyes on me while I was working under the hood. And Lewis later confirmed my suspicions. He told me he'd caught her staring at me.

Actually, he said she'd been staring at my ass, but Lewis tends to exaggerate. Especially since he's been trying for years to convince me to get up the nerve to ask her out.

I've explained to him that I can't ask her out. She's my partner, for one thing. And for another, she wouldn't be remotely interested.

But now I'm wondering if maybe I'm half-wrong.

I admit that I couldn't take my eyes off of her when she pulled her sweater over her head. The action caught me completely off guard, and sent my resourceful imagination into overdrive. It took a split-second for me to picture her doing that exact same movement, only in my bedroom. And without the shirt on underneath.

She knew I was watching, too. She walked right up to me and looked me in the eyes while she licked her thumb and rubbed grease from my face.

And for a moment, I couldn't move. I don't think I was breathing, but I can't say for sure. All I know is that I have perfect recall of the entire event. And yes, I'm going to call it an event.

I managed to tell her thank you, but I couldn't take my eyes off of her. I imagined grabbing her into my arms and kissing her right then and there.

What would she have done?

_She probably would've kneed me in the balls_.

Maybe. But something in her eyes told me maybe not.

And I'll blame Lewis for interrupting our moment, but the truth is I wouldn't have done anything. I can't risk it. She means too much to me.

She dropped me off at about dinner time, and I almost invited her in, but I didn't want to push it. She spent her entire day with me, so I wasn't going to get greedy and expect her to stay for the evening.

Besides, it was Saturday night. Maybe she has a date.

That thought was like a bucket of cold water on my head.

Once it crossed my mind, I couldn't stop thinking about it.

Does Eames have a date?

Is she, right this minute, out with some guy?

What is she doing?

_Do I really want to know_?

No. I have no problem imagining what Alex might look like in the throes of passion, but only as long as I'm the one who gets her there.

I paced the apartment for awhile, and then forced myself to sit down and read over the notes about Walter Raleigh.

I called Detective Morgan at the 6-8 yesterday, and then again this morning, but I haven't heard back from him. No doubt he was annoyed at the intrusion, and he's probably already filed a complaint with Ross.

Not that Ross has any say in what I do while I'm on suspension.

I can ask questions if I want to. Morgan is under no obligation to answer, but it still doesn't keep me from asking.

Anyway, by eleven o'clock, I'd been sitting with the phone in my hand for half an hour.

I want to call Alex.

I want to know if she's home.

But I don't really have a good reason to call. I've been trying to come up with some brilliant epiphany as to the whereabouts of Raleigh because that would be a valid reason for a late night call, but so far, I have nothing.

And then Morgan called.

"Goren," I answered.

"It's Morgan with the 6-8," the detective said amicably. Maybe he isn't pissed. Maybe he's just been busy.

"Yeah, hey, I'm sorry to bug you about this case. I was just trying to help out a friend," I said easily. I figure I can be diplomatic. Alex would be proud.

"No problem. In fact, it's no longer a missing persons case."

"Oh, that's great," I replied. "Old Walter finally went home, huh?"

"Not exactly. A fisherman pulled him out of the Hudson River this afternoon. The ME hasn't done the autopsy yet, but she said it looks like he's been dead a few days. I don't know how she can tell that just by looking at him because he was pretty messed up. We couldn't ID him by his face, that was for sure. That's why it took me so long to call you. I just got the confirmation on his ID."

"Who's getting the case?"

"Rich guy like that? Probably Major Case. All I know is that he's not mine anymore."

"Okay. Well, thanks for the heads-up."

I hung up with Morgan and stared at the phone for a minute longer as I processed the latest information.

Now I have my reason to call Alex, but it's not exactly what I was hoping for.

"He's dead?" she repeated when I gave her the news. That's how I know she wasn't really listening to me. That's one of her tricks. She'll just repeat the last couple of words. I wonder what she was thinking about instead of listening to what I was saying.

"Yeah, they found him in the Hudson. Morgan says it's probably going to Major Case."

"Looks like he's right. Hang on a minute. Ross is calling."

She put me on hold. Ross is going to give her this case? Does that mean he'll give her a partner to work with?

"Bobby," she said when she finished with Ross. "Looks like I'm picking this one up. I've got to go."

"You have to go now? They found him hours ago. And in the river. It's not like there's a crime scene."

"Yeah, I know, but Ross said that Rodgers has him on the table right now."

"What's the rush?"

"He's apparently a friend of the governor's uncle," she said with the expected amount of sarcasm.

"I guess it really is all in who you know," I mumbled. "So, you're um…going to the um…morgue?"

"Yeah. I'm getting up to get dressed now."

_Oh, Alex, I did not need that visual_.

I'm supposed to be thinking about a sixty-eight year old corpse, not what kind of sleepwear she's wearing - _or not wearing -_ at the moment.

What does she wear to bed? Is she into silky things? Or maybe cotton? Or…

"Bobby," she said.

"What?"

"I asked if you want to come with me."

"To the morgue?"

"Yes," she said in frustration. She must have already asked me that once. But I can hear her rustling around and I just can't focus on her words.

"I…um…probably…you know…probably shouldn't."

"Ross won't be there, and he didn't assign me to work with anyone yet," she told me. "Come on. You're halfway into this one anyway. Rodgers won't rat you out."

"Okay. Yeah, okay great."

"I'll pick you up in thirty minutes."

I hung up with her and then decided to give Logan a call.

I spoke with him earlier in the day but I didn't have any news for him since Morgan hadn't returned my call by that point.

He had been apologetic about leaving me with Rhonda on Friday, but he didn't elaborate on why he'd left. Something's going on with him, but he in't my only puzzle anymore so I'll have to come back to that.

I filled him in on the death of Walter Raleigh.

"In the Hudson? Shit."

"I'm going over to the morgue with Eames. We should know more after Rodgers takes a look at him."

"Eames pulled the case?"

"Yeah, Ross just called her."

"Who did he assign her as a partner?"

"No one yet. I'm guessing he's going to wait until it's confirmed that it was murder as opposed to him falling off of somebody's boat."

"Let me know what Rodgers says. If it's a murder, I'll talk to Ross and see if I can work it with her."

"You know Ross doesn't like you, right?" I can't resist giving him a hard time. It's nice to have someone else in the same boat with me. Ross does like him a little more than me, but not much.

"Yeah, I know. But it's worth a shot. And considering I have a history with the deceased's live-in, maybe he'll go for it."

I hung up with Logan and quickly changed from sweatpants into jeans. I threw on a clean shirt and grabbed up the notes I'd accumulated and left the apartment. I don't want to make Alex have to find a parking spot, so I went downstairs and waited out front.

Rhonda Hagen wanted Logan to look into this case. Why? Did she suspect that someone was out to get him or did she simply not want to lose her cash cow?

I haven't gotten much background on Raleigh yet. Quite honestly, I haven't put much work into the case at all. I made a couple of calls to Morgan and then spent the day with Alex.

It's not like me to be so casual about a case, although it's probably because I wasn't overly concerned about the man.

I mean, I met Rhonda. I would've run away from her, too.

But still, odds are that now we have a murder. No one in their right mind would've been taking a pleasure cruise up the Hudson in January. And if he had been on someone's boat, then that person would've reported him missing.

I wondered about his enemies. He had to have them. Money always attracts women and enemies.

But he was pretty old. Was he still in the game? Were there people he had stepped on along his way to success who maybe now wanted payback?

I really need to spend some time doing a little research. It's unlikely that Rhonda will have any answers. She only seems to care about the limit on his credit card.

"You're thinking awfully hard."

I guess I had been since I didn't even heard the SUV pull up. She'd put the window down to get my attention.

"Yeah," I agreed as I opened the door. "Thinking about old man Raleigh."

"And Rhonda?"

"Uh huh. I can't decide how she fits into this, but isn't it odd that she approached Logan on the day before the body was found?"

"Not really. He'd been missing a few days, and she didn't feel like the cops were concerned. I can understand that."

"Maybe," I mused. "Or maybe she wanted someone involved in the case who she felt like she could manipulate."

I'm glad that I have my head in the case. I was worried before that with my increased infatuation with Alex, maybe I wouldn't be able to concentrate.

I don't want to get to the point were I can't think about the details of a crime because I'm noticing that she decided to put her hair up. And she's wearing faded jeans, different ones than what she had on earlier. And she's wearing the boots that I like.

See, I can think about both.

"And she would think she could manipulate Logan? She doesn't know him very well then."

"She knows a side of him that we don't," I countered. "At a time when we didn't know much about him at all. He said it was over a year ago. It was right after Carolyn left."

"Oh, you know she's back."

"Carolyn?"

"Yeah. She's called me a couple of times just to see how things were going. I haven't seen her yet though."

"Where was she?"

"Colombia. Some kind of FBI-ATF thing."

Huh. I wonder if Logan knows she was back. I wonder if he even cares. He seemed fairly down when she left, but again, that was before we started hanging out more. And it could've just been because he lost another partner.

I made a mental note to ask him about it. And to find out why he left me on the line with Rhonda.

We got to the morgue and went down the nearly-empty hall towards the autopsy suite.

"Detective Eames," Rodgers greeted when Alex went through the door ahead of me. "And Detective Goren. What a surprise."

"He's…um…just tagging along," Alex told her.

"Hey, you're always welcome. Just don't touch anything," she said to me.

I assumed she was kidding because she knows I can't keep my hands to myself. I already had one hand in a glove and was working the other piece of latex into place.

"Find anything interesting?" Alex asked her as I moved closer to the body.

I can understand why Morgan's people had trouble identifying the body. This guy was a mess, but it seems like the damage was all from naturally occurring phenomenon.

I poked at the gelatinous skin briefly before Rodgers cleared her throat loudly.

"I did," she told us, and the tone of her voice suggested that it was, in fact, quite interesting. I stood up and took a step back from the table.

"Don't keep me in suspense," Alex told her.

"Well, for starters, he was dead before he went in the water. His lungs are dry and there's no sign of laryngospasm."

"So his airways didn't close off…" I began.

"Due to the cold water. Yeah, I got it," Alex finished with a grin.

"You two don't miss a trick, do you?" Rodgers said. "Anyway, what _is_ interesting is that he has Chlamydia."

"He has an STD?" Alex choked out.

"Yeah, well, he was old, but he wasn't dead. I mean, _now_ he's dead, but…sorry. Morgue humor."

I stifled a chuckle at Rodgers' ramblings and then posed the next question.

"I'm pretty sure Chlamydia isn't fatal. What's the COD?"

"Carbon monoxide poisoning."

TBC...


	11. Chapter 11

**Logan POV**

* * *

Goren called me first thing Sunday morning. I was out of the bed, but I hadn't been for long.

Carolyn was in the kitchen making coffee and I was getting ready to hop in the shower.

We were back at my place.

We'd spent the rest of Friday at her hotel. She had taken all four pregnancy tests, and it was a huge relief to know that they were all in agreement.

Definitely not pregnant.

And as late as she was, it surely would've shown up, so we were going to blame it on the pills themselves as to what was making her so late.

We'd wandered around the city yesterday, looking for a place to live. She seemed happy with my suggestion to move in together, and so was I. We hadn't found anything yet, but Carolyn had said that she would call an agent in the morning and get more serious about the search.

It would be a first for me, to live with someone. I hadn't lived with anyone at all since I'd left my mother's home when I was seventeen.

It almost made me nervous that it _wasn't_ making me nervous.

But Carolyn and I had been virtually living together, albeit in two separate locations, for a month now and it was working out great.

I opened up my cell phone and answered the call.

"Rodgers is ruling it as a suspicious death," Goren said.

"What's the COD?" I asked him.

"Carbon monoxide poisoning. She can't say for sure whether it was intentional or not, but the fact that he ended up in the Hudson says that at the very least, someone wanted to hide the fact that he was dead."

"You're thinking Rhonda."

"I don't know. You tell me."

"I don't know her," I reminded him. "We didn't exactly have meaningful conversations. It was just sex."

And of course, that was the moment that Carolyn chose to bring me a cup of coffee. I winced a little, but she patted me on the arm and went back into the other room.

I followed her, despite my state of undress.

"Hang on, Goren," I said, and then I covered the mouthpiece with one hand.

"Hey, I'm sorry," I said.

"Don't be. You had a life before me. You don't have to be embarrassed about it."

"I had a shitty life before you," I countered. I ran my fingers along her jaw line, loving the feel of her soft skin. "And I'm sorry that some of the worst parts are being brought up now."

"I'm sure it'll be my turn soon enough," she replied conspiratorially. "I'm no saint, you know."

"I know," I agreed, glad that she truly seemed okay with my callous remark. I waggled my eyebrows at her and brought my lips down to hers. "Why do you think I love you so much?"

"I don't know," she teased. She put her hands on my chest and then started a slow downward path. "Why do you?"

I nearly forgot that I had Goren on the phone.

"Hold that thought," I told her as I brought the phone back to my ear.

"Hold _what_?" she asked wickedly. I jerked the phone back down and gave her a crushing kiss.

"You are an evil woman. Give me five minutes," I promised and then I forced myself to leave the room so that I could concentrate on the conversation.

"Logan, what the hell?" Goren asked when I finally went back to him.

"Nothing. Sorry. So...suspicious death. Ross still going through with an investigation?"

"Yeah. Eames is going to search his house this morning. I was thinking maybe you and I could talk to Rhonda."

"At the house? Or do you want her out of the house?"

"There's nothing official that says she lives there. It's just going to be a search of the victim's premises. I think it would be better if Rhonda wasn't there. Can you call her? Ask her to meet us somewhere?"

I didn't want to call her. But Goren was right. We needed to talk to her and find out more details about her relationship with Raleigh. I also wanted to press her a little on exactly why she'd called me.

"A little curious that she asked about me being a homicide cop before we even knew he was dead, don't you think?" I posed.

"She asked you that?"

"She said I was the only homicide cop she knew. She was specific about that."

"It could just be that she truly believed he wasn't simply missing. It's not a stretch to think homicide."

"True," I agreed.

"And since he's dead, her money train is gone. Unless he wrote her into his will already. Eames is checking on that, but it's doubtful. Rhonda said she's only been with him for two months."

"So you don't think she killed him."

"You do?" he asked me in surprise.

_Did I? _

I had no idea.

It seemed like a strange situation, but that didn't mean she'd killed him. Sleeping with her a few times gave me no great insight into how her mind worked.

_Other than the idea that she'd been willing to let me pretend she was someone else._

"I'll call her. We can meet back at the diner. I want to be sure we meet in public."

"Good idea," he agreed quickly.

I was glad that Eames had rescued him from Rhonda the other day. It eased some of my feelings of guilt about that. Rhonda was a little too much for Goren. Hell, she was too much for me and I was used to dealing with women like her.

"Ten-thirty?" I asked after checking the clock. That would give me an hour. Thirty minutes with Carolyn, and then thirty minutes to get myself ready and haul ass to the diner.

"Okay. Oh, and Logan…"

"What?"

"There is one other thing that I think you need to know."

"What?" I asked again, this time more slowly. I didn't like his tone of voice and I didn't like his hesitancy.

"It's just that…um…Raleigh, well…he…"

"Spit it out, Goren."

"He had an STD."

"What?" I shouted. "What was it?"

"Chlamydia. Of course, that doesn't mean that he got it from Rhonda, or that even if he did, it doesn't mean that she had it back when you knew her, but…"

"Fuck me," I muttered. This was just great.

I mean, Goren was right that it didn't necessarily mean she'd had it back then, and even if she did have it, I'd been smart.

I might've been drunk off my ass, but I still _always_ used protection. Always, with everyone, until Carolyn. And she was different.

It was about the only useful thing my mother ever beat into me. _You'd better be using a damn condom. You knock up that tramp of yours and I'm not gonna be the one raising the little bastard_. I was thirteen when she told me that. I'd had a girl over after school to work on history homework. Needless to say, the girl left in a hurry and never came back. After she'd gone, my mother had proceeded to hit me with the history text book while shouting that if only _my father_ had learned that lesson, then she wouldn't be stuck with the likes of me.

"He didn't have any antibiotics in his system, so it was untreated. He either didn't know about it or he didn't want to admit to it. There was nothing in his medical records about it," Goren told me, interrupting my little stroll down memory lane.

"Do you think it's relevant?" I asked.

"Probably not. Unless he found out about it and was pissed off. Maybe he was going to kick her out or something."

"Let's ask her. I'll meet you there in an hour."

I was early getting to the diner.

What can I say? Discussing the possibility of a past lover having an STD was not exactly foreplay.

But I also wasn't going to sit on that information.

I mean, I knew I didn't have it. Like I said, always protected, every time.

But still…if I didn't tell Carolyn about it, it would just feel wrong.

So I did. And she'd been fine with it.

Well, I wouldn't say _fine_, but…it's one of those things that sometimes it's best if you just don't know. Ask any sexually active adult to start thinking about their partners, and their partners' partners, and then consider if any of them possibly had anything catching…it's a damn safe-sex public service announcement. Hell, it's an abstinence public service announcement. I kind of liken it to people becoming vegetarians once they find out the whole slaughterhouse process. Okay, so maybe that's not the best comparison, but still…

"How's the new girlfriend?" Goren asked as he met me on the sidewalk in front of the diner.

"What girlfriend?" I asked with a grin.

"Still not going to tell me, huh? It must be someone I know."

"Mikey!"

Rhonda yelled out to me as she crossed the street, teetering on too-high heels.

"Mikey, did you hear? They found him!" she said as she flung herself into my arms. "I told you something was wrong. My Waltie wouldn't just leave me."

I carefully extricated myself from her grasp and held her at arm's length.

"How did you know?" I asked her.

"How did I know what?"

"You wanted me because I'm a homicide cop. How did you know he'd been killed?"

"I didn't," she said slowly as she looked back and forth between me and Goren. We were still standing out on the sidewalk, but it was Sunday morning and the pedestrian traffic was light.

"Why did you call him?" Goren asked her with a nod toward me.

"The other detectives weren't looking for him," she said. Her whole demeanor changed, and she took a step back from me. "What's this all about?"

"We just have a few questions for you," I told her. "Did Walter have a boat? There isn't one registered in his name."

"He was thinking about buying one. He's had it for a few weeks."

"He's been trying it out? In January?"

"We were going to take a sail down the coast. I wanted to go to Miami."

"You two were going to sail all the way down to Miami?" I repeated. I found that hard to believe. That was a long journey for anyone, but especially someone of his age.

"That's what he said," she insisted.

"Whose boat was it?"

"I don't know the guy's name."

"Do you know the name of the boat?"

"No."

"Did he take the boat out on Tuesday?"

"I don't know. Maybe. I told you, I went shopping. He was home when I left."

"My partner is at the home right now conducting a search," Goren told her.

And then she flipped out.

"What? She can't do that! Does she have a warrant?"

"It's not your home. It's the home of the victim. She doesn't need a warrant."

"Doesn't need a warrant, my ass! I'm going to call my lawyer!"

"Why, Rhonda?" I asked her. I grabbed her arm as she went to get out her cell phone. "What's the big deal?"

"My private things are in that home. She can't be going through my stuff."

"She's not looking to be nosy. She's looking for evidence of what happened to Walter. Don't you want to know what happened?"

"Yes! Of course I do. I just…you two tricked me!"

She pulled her arm away from me and took another step away. She glared at the two of us and then kicked Goren between the legs. Hard. I know he wasn't expecting it, and it hurt me just to see how much force she put into that kick. He immediately doubled over.

"Rhonda! Shit, what the hell did you do that for? You just assaulted a cop!" I yelled at her as I grabbed her by the arm. But it was her left arm, and unfortunately for Goren, she's right handed. She swung at him and in his bent-over position, his jaw was an easy target.

Goren took a step sideways, still unable to speak from the pain caused by her first blow. I threw Rhonda into wall of the diner, pushing her face hard against the brick with one hand while I got the cuffs on her with the other.

"Rhonda Hagen, you are under arrest," I told her.

"It's…Logan…don't," Goren stammered as he fought to get his composure.

"Don't what?"

I waited, keeping Rhonda pushed against the wall with a firm hand against her shoulder blades, while Goren finally managed to stand up straight and take a few breaths. His face was still pale, and he bent over a couple more times before he was able to talk.

"I'm not pressing charges," he said at last. I knew right away what he was worried about. He's on suspension.

But a cop on suspension is still a cop, and she'd been way out of line to do what she'd done.

"Hear what he said?" Rhonda chimed in. "Let me go."

"Goren…"

"We'll go with you to your house right now. And I won't press charges."

"You want to come with me?"

"Yeah. We'll go over there while my partner is still conducting the search."

Goren is a damn genius. He couldn't go in to search the home with Eames but if he went with Rhonda then he could look around himself. And I wasn't assigned to this case yet, either, but this way I could get a good look at things, too.

"Rhonda, take it or leave it. You're either under arrest, or we're going to Raleigh's house."

"Let's go," she said on a long-suffering sigh.

I released my hold on her and undid the cuffs.

I wondered what the hell I had been thinking to have ever slept with this woman. _I wasn't thinking. I was missing Carolyn._

I opened the back door to my SUV and waited while Rhonda got in the vehicle. Goren climbed in the front passenger seat, still moving a little gingerly.

I felt bad for him. And Eames. _He was going to be out of commission for a little while._

I couldn't stop the smirk that came along with that thought. Those two thought they were being so subtle.

Did they truly believe that no one knew they were together? Okay, maybe Ross didn't, but he was the only one.

Because I mean, they _were_ together, right? Between the looks and the silent conversations...if they weren't a couple, then they were only fooling themselves.

Goren opened his phone and quickly made a call.

"It's me," he said. "Don't be in any hurry."

He hung up without another word, but I got the feeling that a lot more had been said than I realized.

"Eames still there?" I asked unnecessarily.

"Yeah. She asked Ross if she could call you. He said no," he replied in a low tone so that Rhonda wouldn't overhear.

"What? Why?"

"I told you he doesn't like you," Goren replied with a shrug and a smile.

Great. This was going to make for an interesting investigation. Three MCS detectives and only one of us was actually assigned to the case. And neither me nor Goren was going to let it go.

I had a feeling it wouldn't be long before all three of us got an ass chewing.

TBC...


	12. Chapter 12

**Alex POV**

* * *

Walter Raleigh's home was a museum.

As a child, I'd always wanted to live in a home like this, but lately I'd come to realize more than ever that a home was what you made it.

Money or not, it was about family and love.

The place I lived in now was home, but just barely.

I'd moved to Forest Hills a year or so ago and although it was nice to be in a place with no memories of Joe, it also had no other memories.

_Of much of anything_.

Bobby didn't come by very often, although I think that was mostly because his place was closer.

_And I was the one chasing him_, my mind supplied.

Was that true? Was it always me running after him as opposed to the other way around?

That was something I needed to delve into a little more when I had some time.

Right now, I was supposed to be looking through this old guy's stuff.

"Detective Eames."

It was one of the CSU techs. She was calling from Raleigh's bedroom. I went down the hall and into the room.

"What did you find?" I asked her as I entered the large room.

There was a king-sized bed in the center of the room. On the far side was a stone fireplace, and in front of it there was a sitting area with a couch and two smaller chairs.

The opposite side of the room held two large walk-in closets and then there was a short hall that led to a master bath.

The tech was in the bathroom.

"Medicine cabinet," she told me as she held the mirrored door open for me to look inside. The shelves were lined with pill bottles. "The old man had Viagra and vitamins. That's it. The rest are prescribed to Rhonda Hagen."

"What are they?"

"Xanax. Prozac. Valium. Ambien…"

"Have a few issues, huh Rhonda?" I mumbled to myself as I looked over the medications.

"And birth control," the tech added.

"Great. Antibiotics?"

"Yeah. Azithromycin."

"Drug of choice for Chlamydia. So she knew about it even if Walter didn't."

"An STD?" the tech asked me in horror. "How old was this guy?"

"Yeah. I know," I agreed. "Bag 'em up."

As I went back into the bedroom, my phone rang. _Bobby._ I held back a smile.

"Eames."

"It's me. Don't be in any hurry."

"I knew you could get her to come here with you," I told him as I walked over to the fireplace. "Ross said no to Logan. I'm not going to tell you what I think. We'll compare notes later."

I hung up and squatted down next to the hearth. They clearly used the fireplace regularly, although considering it was a large drafty house, and it was January that wasn't really any surprise.

I snapped on some gloves and poked around through the ash for a minute before directing another tech to take a sample.

There was no blood found in the house. There was no sign of any struggle. Of course, if Rhonda had done something to him then she would've had plenty of time to get everything cleaned up.

But there wasn't really any sign of a recent clean-up. No vacuum marks. No scent of bleach or Lysol in the air.

In fact, it kind of just smelled like old guy. And perfume.

What was Rhonda's deal with this guy? It had to just be about money. But I'd confirmed that she wasn't in his will, so he would've been more valuable to her alive than dead.

I heard a ruckus from the foyer, so I went down the hall. Rhonda stood there giving me a death glare.

"Detective Eames, you could have called me," she said sharply.

"Why would I do that? You'd already received the notification."

"I live here. You're in my home."

"I'm in the home of our victim, Walter Raleigh. If you have a problem with that…"

"You're damn right I have a problem with that!"

"Hey, Rhonda, settle down," Logan told her. "Do I need to make you wait outside?"

As Logan grabbed Rhonda by the arm, I finally looked at Bobby.

Something was definitely wrong with him.

Something aside from the bruise that was forming along his jaw.

His skin was slightly pale and he was standing awkwardly.

"What happened?" I asked him. I briefly wondered if he and Logan working together was a good idea. Trouble seemed inevitable.

"I kicked him," Rhonda said haughtily. "I'd do it again, too."

I dropped my eyes to Bobby's shins thinking she had given him a sissy kick.

"Uh uh. A little higher," Logan told me, when he noticed the height of my gaze.

I couldn't stop myself. My eyes drifted upwards on their own accord.

There's a reason why I don't make a habit out of looking at my partner's package.

Okay, there are lots of reasons.

But one reason is that once I look, I can't look away. And he was wearing jeans, nicely-fitting jeans, so I found myself analyzing every detail of the lay of the land.

"I'm fine," Bobby insisted and it took every ounce of willpower I had to move my eyes from his crotch up to his face.

He was blushing a deep shade of red, and I was sure that he was going to kill Logan later for telling me exactly what had happened.

And that was fine.

We could be in jail together because I was going to kill Rhonda for potentially damaging the man before I'd had the opportunity to properly examine the merchandise.

_Ha. Yeah, because that was going to happen_.

See? Reason number twenty-one for not looking at Bobby's…manly area – it makes me think unprofessional thoughts in a completely inappropriate venue.

I really needed to get this thing back on track here.

"Did you arrest her?" I asked Logan in my most professional voice.

"I'm fine," Bobby said again. "I'm not pressing charges. We came here instead."

I was sure that getting kicked in the balls had not been his initial plan for getting himself invited into the house, but he had improvised.

So for now, we needed to take advantage of the situation and make good use of the time. Because there was no one I trusted more to find some remote off-the-wall clue than Bobby. There was no one I trusted more about anything – period.

And anyway, now I would have an excuse to go by his place later. I could check on him. I could offer him some ice for his…jaw.

"The bedroom is this way," I told him as I headed down the hall.

"What did you find?"

"I want you to look at it first."

When I got to the doorway of the bedroom, I stepped aside and waited for Bobby. He was still moving slowly down the hall. In fact, he looked like he'd been riding a horse. _For a day or two, maybe_. I was really going to have to kill Rhonda.

"Bobby," I said quietly as he passed me, my tone asking him what my voice couldn't.

_Are you okay?_

"I'll live," he told me with a small smile.

I left him in the bedroom and went back to the foyer where Logan stood with Rhonda.

"We're going to have a little chat," I said. I looked at Rhonda while I said it, but the words were directed toward Logan.

"I'll leave you two alone for a minute," he replied.

He hesitated as though he didn't know if he should leave us unattended. I'm sure he knew I was pissed.

Whether or not I was having improper sexual thoughts about my partner was irrelevant.

And yes, okay, I _was_ having improper sexual thoughts.

But the fact of the matter was that she had assaulted my partner. I wasn't going to just let that go.

I stepped up close to her and gave her a hard stare.

"You got something to say to me?" she asked me in a snotty tone after Logan left the foyer.

I made her nervous when I still didn't reply and she finally broke eye contact. Then she started shifting from one foot to the other.

"What?" she asked, sounding a little desperate now.

"My partner might not want to press charges, but if you pull a stunt like that again, I'll throw your ass in jail so fast you won't know which end is up."

"Jail? Is that your threat?" she asked me. And she had the nerve to take a step closer to me. And yeah, she had me by about eight inches, but I wasn't concerned about that at all.

"Jail will be a best-case scenario for you. My partner won't hit a woman, but I have no problem with it."

Rhonda held firm for a minute, but then she took a small step back. And then she crumpled.

"I'm sorry I kicked him! I just couldn't stand the idea of cops in here, rummaging through our things. Waltie would've hated it. He was such a private man," she wailed.

I stood there, stunned momentarily, as tears streamed down her face. _Was she for real_?

"Rhonda," I said tightly. "What was going on between you two? I've checked on his will. You're not in it."

He had three kids, all older than Rhonda. He had left everything to them.

"I know," she cried. "But he was going to change it. He said he loved me."

"He was going to write you in?" I asked for clarification. "Instead of his kids, or in addition to them?"

"He was going to leave it all to me."

"What time did you leave on Tuesday?"

"It was about nine-thirty."

"Did you see him before you left?"

"He was still in bed. He had taken one of my sleeping pills the night before."

"So he was sleeping?"

"No, he was awake, but he said he was still tired."

"Okay. So he was in bed. Did he tell you what his plans were for the day?"

"No. I told him that I was going shopping, and then I gave him a kiss goodbye. He said he would see me that night."

"But you didn't tell him when you'd be back."

"No."

"So why would he assume that he wouldn't see you until the night if you were leaving at nine-thirty in the morning?"

She paused for a minute and looked at me. She was a mess, with mascara running down her cheeks and her nose running. If she was faking her distress, she was pretty damn good.

"I don't know. I guess he did have plans. But I didn't ask and he didn't say."

"Okay," I told her. I patted her on the arm and took a step away from her. "Go in the bathroom and clean yourself up. We'll just be a few more minutes."

I met Logan in the kitchen and he greeted me with a grin.

"I thought there was going to be a brawl in there."

"What would you have done if it'd been your partner?" I snapped back.

And yeah, I was a little defensive because I couldn't afford for my reaction to be seen as anything other than professional.

"Hey, you don't have to explain yourself to me. I thought you handled it just fine. What did you think of her story?"

"Were you listening?"

"Yeah."

"She seems legit to me, but I still don't get the attraction. It had to just be the money."

"Oh come on, Eames. You don't believe that love is blind?" he asked me.

"Nope," Bobby answered for me as he came into the kitchen. "We need to compare notes."

"Did you find something?" I asked him. I knew he would. I'd found something, too, but I wanted to see if we reached the same conclusion.

Before Bobby could reply, I heard Logan mutter a curse word under his breath. He dropped his head quickly, but I turned to see what he'd been looking at. Ross.

"What the hell is going on here, Detective?" he barked out to me.

"Captain, I just…" Bobby began.

"Not you," he said sharply. "All three of you – outside."

Well, at least he wasn't going to ream us in front of the techs.

I followed Logan and Bobby outside. Even though I was in trouble, I couldn't help but notice that Bobby was still hobbling.

_How hard did she kick him?_

"I came here to give you a hand, Eames, since you're working alone. I can see that wasn't necessary."

Was that a question? How was I supposed to respond to that?

"Sir, Logan and Goren came home with the victim's girlfriend."

Okay, that didn't sound good either.

"What I mean is that Logan is an old friend and…"

"Eames. Stop. Logan, you have no business being here. I have not assigned you this case, and I didn't because when I gave Rhonda Hagen the death notification, she mentioned to me that you are a friend. And Goren…I can't even begin to imagine why you're here. You're on suspension. Do you know how bad it would look to the department if they found out you were investigating a case off the clock?"

"Captain, this is my fault," Logan spoke up. "Rhonda asked me to help, and I asked Goren. That was before Raleigh turned up dead. We met her this morning to talk to her about what had happened, and then we just drove her home. We didn't know Eames was going to be here."

"You didn't know."

"No, sir," Logan insisted. Bobby didn't say anything, which was probably smart. He was two months in to an open-ended suspension. He didn't need any more trouble.

"Eames?" Ross asked.

What, he wanted to see if I would go with Logan's lie?

In a second.

"Yes sir. They just arrived a few minutes before you."

Ross stood quietly for a moment, assessing the truth in my statement. I usually tried to avoid flat-out lying, especially to Ross, but I wasn't going to throw Bobby under the bus. I'd brought him into this investigation by suggesting him to Logan, and then again by encouraging him to go to the morgue with me.

"What happened to your face?" Ross asked Bobby after several long moments.

"I got punched," he said ambiguously.

"No kidding, Detective, I can see that. By whom?"

"Me," I spoke up quickly.

Oh my God, I was getting in deeper and deeper. See? This is why I try not to lie. Once you start, you just can't stop.

"You?" Logan and Ross said together.

"We were working on self-defense tactics earlier this morning. It was an accident."

Logan looked at me like I was a genius.

Ross looked at me with skepticism.

Bobby looked at me with deep brown, emotion-filled eyes that rocked my core. It was close to that look he'd given me in Lewis' garage yesterday after I'd rubbed the dirt from his face. It was a look I could get used to.

Maybe a couple of little white lies weren't so bad.

TBC...


	13. Chapter 13

**Bobby POV**

* * *

I nearly choked when Alex told Ross that she was the one who had hit me.

She was really going to bat for me lately. I had to quit letting her do that or she was going to completely ruin her career.

I didn't want that on my head.

It was bad enough that she'd blown her chances for advancement just by being partnered with me.

I knew she had a black mark in her jacket because of my stint at Tates.

And now she was covering for me. Again.

Even though this time I hadn't done anything wrong.

I hadn't provoked Rhonda into punching me, and I sure as hell didn't ask to be kicked in the groin. That still hurt like a son of a bitch.

I was starting to be afraid there might be some kind of permanent damage or something.

I've taken some blows in my life but I have never had one like the kick she gave me. I'd thought I was going to pass out, then throw up, and then I'd just wanted to curl up in the fetal position. It was so bad that I hadn't felt the punch to the jaw at all.

Of course, it had almost all been worth it. Because I'd seen the way Alex looked at me.

Looked – huh. She'd _scrutinized_.

She'd examined the bulge in my pants for so long that despite my injury, I was running through facts from my latest issue of Smithsonian in my head just to keep from embarrassing myself even further.

Maybe Lewis had been right about her checking out my ass yesterday.

Alex wanted to press charges against Rhonda, but I told her that I wasn't going to do it. I knew she was mad. Really mad. It probably would've been better for Rhonda if I had pressed charges. At least in jail, she'd be safe from Eames.

But as it was, I just wanted to search the house and see what kind of information I could gather about old Walter.

And I found something interesting. I wondered briefly if Alex had found it, too, but I was pretty sure she had. She didn't miss much. Not when it came to investigative work anyway. She'd missed the fact that I was completely in love with her, but personal matters were another thing entirely.

_Although maybe she hasn't missed it_.

Maybe she just doesn't return the sentiment, so she's ignoring it.

I blocked out that depressing thought and got my head back in the game.

Ross apparently decided to believe Alex's lie about she being the one who punched me. It was Sunday, after all, so he had no way to prove or disprove what she'd been up to prior to arriving at the Raleigh home.

After offering up strict instructions for me and Logan to keep our noses out of this case, Ross left us in the front yard while he walked Eames back into the house.

He was still giving her what-for, but she glanced back at me and rolled her eyes.

I bit back a smirk and gave her a nod that said, _I'll call you later_.

We definitely had a connection.

And she might not return the sentiment yet, but I still had high hopes for someday needing my injured equipment.

"Come on," Logan said. "I'll take you back to the diner so you can get your car."

"I took the subway," I told him.

"Oh. Okay, well I'll drop you at your place then."

We rode for a little while in silence. I don't know what he was thinking about, but I was trying to sort through the evidence. Even though Ross had told me to stay away from this case, I couldn't drop it. I wasn't wired that way.

I hadn't been all that interested in the beginning, but now it was going to take more than the captain's request to get me to let it go.

And okay, so it wasn't a request. It was more like an order, but for some reason, I didn't always take orders well. Call it a character flaw.

"Boy, I thought Eames was going to kick Rhonda's ass."

"What?"

"Rhonda. When I told Eames she'd kicked you."

"Yeah," I said, glad that he had reminded me about that. "Why'd you tell her?"

"That you got kicked?" Logan asked with a grin. He was enjoying this way too much.

"_Where_ I got kicked," I corrected.

"It's not like she wasn't going to figure it out."

"What?" I had no idea what he meant like that. How would she figure it out? _Oh_.

"I'm not sleeping with her," I told him.

"Okay."

"I'm not."

"I get it."

"Do you?"

"Yeah. You can't admit that you are because then they'll break up the partnership. I can appreciate that. Your secret's safe with me."

I wish that were the problem.

"There's no secret. We're not…never mind," I said finally on a heavy sigh. I ran my hands down my face and looked out the window.

"Hey, I'm sorry," he said. "It's none of my business."

It wasn't, but I couldn't be mad at him for asking about it. Hell, for _thinking_ it.

I just needed to learn to control my responses to Alex a little better. I couldn't let my feelings show through as much as they probably were. I'd kept a mask in place for so many years, but lately it had been slipping. I needed to get it back.

It wasn't a good thing for one partner to fall in love with the other.

And for some reason, that thought reminded me about Carolyn.

"Oh, Eames told me something earlier. I don't know if you want to hear it or not."

"If you tell me Rodgers found another STD on Raleigh…"

I barked out a laugh and shook my head.

"No. No, that's not it. It's Barek. She's back in town."

"Oh yeah?" he replied.

And then he was quiet for several long minutes. So long in fact that I thought maybe I shouldn't have told him.

I turned to study him as he pulled over in front of my apartment building.

"Thanks for telling me," he said at last.

"I…um….maybe I…shouldn't have. Was there something…"

"No. It wasn't like that. We were partners, that's all."

I stared at him a moment longer, undecided how to read him. Was he upset? Ambivalent? Excited? I couldn't tell. Which was kind of strange, and actually only served to make me more curious.

I'd only worked with Barek peripherally and yet I was interested. I wanted to hear what she'd been up to. She'd been a colleague that I was fond of, and it made me want to see how things were going for her.

Logan had been her partner for a year, and yet _thanks for telling me_ was his only response?

"Is Eames going to keep you up to speed on this case?" he asked me after another minute.

The case. _Right._

Damn, I needed to get my badge back.

Too much off-time was making me probe into people's personal lives way too much.

"Yeah," I responded as I opened my door to get out. "She said she'd check in after the samples from the fireplace come back. I'll call you."

**

* * *

**

Alex POV

I walked into the house with Ross, only halfway tuning in as he chastised me for getting Goren involved. I just let him talk. Clearly he hadn't really believed our lies, but he wasn't going to push the issue beyond a verbal beat down and I'd certainly sustained enough of those in my life to be able to stand up to this one.

When he paused long enough for me to get a word in, I spoke up.

"Captain, do you want to know what I found?"

I said it with just the right amount of sarcasm where it was bordering on insubordinate but not quite enough to be proven as such. He stopped and looked at me.

"There were several different substances in the fireplace. I had it bagged for testing, but if I had to guess I would say charcoal."

"Okay…"

"And Styrofoam."

"So they got a fire going with some briquettes and then they tossed in a little trash. What's the big deal?"

The captain is a smart man. I know that. But sometimes he doesn't act like it. I think that sometimes he doesn't focus on what's right in front of him and it can make him seem a little simple.

I waited while he pondered over what I'd said. I recognized it the moment he had it.

"Carbon monoxide."

"Right. Both products would emit the gas and if the doors in the bedroom were closed…"

"So you think it was an accident? Or do you think Ms. Hagen lit the fire and then closed old man Raleigh up inside the room?"

"I'm not sure yet. I don't know what she would have to gain by his death. In fact, it seems as though it's going to hurt her more than help her. Maybe it _was_ an accident."

"She doesn't exactly strike me as the type who would know about noxious fumes."

I didn't comment on the fact that he hadn't picked up on it, either. Not right away anyway. And I'd practically gift-wrapped it for him.

"We need to run a blood test on her to see if she has high levels of carbon monoxide," I told him. "And I'll get Rodgers to check Raleigh again. It would be more believable that it was an accident if there's evidence of prolonged exposure as opposed to a one-time incident."

"Of course, we're discounting the fact that he was found in the river," Ross said drolly. "That's no accident."

"Which makes it even more plausible that his death was an accident," I countered. "He died accidentally. She panicked because she didn't want to stop living the life. She dumps the body and files a missing persons report. As long as he's only missing, then she can keep going business as usual."

"Then why call Logan?"

_Good question_.

-------------

I got to the morgue about an hour later. I'd managed to escape Ross shortly after our show-and-tell session and rather than go to 1PP, I decided to see what Rodgers had found out about the carbon monoxide.

I know. I could've called. But I had another question for her, too.

"Detective Eames," she greeted me. I noticed she continued to look at the door.

"Just me today," I told her. "He's trying to behave."

"Well, that'll be a new experience," she joked. "How much longer?" she asked, referencing the suspension.

"I have no idea," I admitted.

I wanted to ask her if she knew anything, but I wasn't going to put her in that position. I knew that she and the captain were still dating and it was likely that he had talked about things.

Or was it?

I had no idea what Ross was like outside of work.

And I really had no idea why Liz was interested in him. So it was probably best if I didn't dive into that pool.

"So, you want to know about Raleigh," she stated as she pulled out a report.

"Yeah, did you find any evidence of prolonged exposure to carbon monoxide?"

"I did. It seems as though the old guy has been breathing it in for awhile."

"Can you be more specific?"

"No. Not really. There is some evidence of reduced ATP. There was time for carboxymyoglobin to form. I would guess a couple of weeks, maybe."

"So more than just a one-time incident," I clarified.

"Definitely."

"And if I bring you a blood sample…"

"I should be able to give you a close estimate as to whether or not there was an equivalent amount of exposure," she agreed. "Of course, there are other determining factors. Age, weight, gender…it won't be precise."

"But it will show exposure."

"Yes."

I wanted to know if Rhonda had breathed in some of the same fumes. If she had, it was more likely that the death had been an accident. I needed to start with that and then move forward to the cover-up aspect.

"Okay, thanks," I told her, although I didn't move to leave.

"Was there something else?"

"Um, well…I have this friend…" I began, and I stopped talking when she rolled her eyes at me.

"Who sustained an injury to the _groin_ area," I continued, emphasizing _groin_ so that she would know I wasn't talking about myself.

Of course, then she smirked at me. What, did I only have one male friend?

"Not Goren," I clarified quickly.

"Okay. And?" she asked, still smiling.

"Are there any…concerns he should have? I mean, should he see a doctor?"

"Well, is everything working properly?" she asked.

"I…um…well…it just happened this morning," I replied.

_As if I would know anyway_. It could've happened two weeks ago and I _still_ wouldn't know if everything was _working properly_.

"So you want to know if it could affect his ability to get an erection."

_Oh my God, why did I even start this conversation? _

Was I that worried about the state of Bobby's equipment?

Well, yes. But it wasn't really my business. Of course, since I'd already started it…

"Well, yeah," I replied. "And to make sure there's no…permanent damage."

"Permanent damage? Well, I guess it could affect the sperm count if there was serious trauma to the testicular area. You could have him…give you a…sample and I could run a test if you want."

"No! No, that's fine. I just thought I would ask. He can…do the…test thing if he has any…concerns."

"Okay. Well, after you've had time to…assess any other damage…if you still have questions, just let me know," she offered.

Assess other damage. _Ha!_ What was I going to do, go over to his place and tell him to drop his pants so that I could check his…

"Alex?" Rodgers said, interrupting my visual.

"Yeah?"

"You said it happened this morning?"

"Yeah."

"Tell him to ice it as much as possible for the first twenty-four hours. Then he'll most likely be in perfect working order."

"Great. Thanks."

I knew there was no way he was going to ice his groin. I could barely get the man to take an aspirin. I was going to have to go over there myself.

I left the morgue and pulled out my phone. It was still Sunday and even though I had a case, I didn't have to work it from 1PP.

"Goren," he answered.

"Are you home?" I asked him.

"Yeah. What did you find out?"

"I'm on my way. I'll tell you when I get there."

TBC...


	14. Chapter 14

**Logan POV**

* * *

By Sunday afternoon, things were starting to come together.

Goren had called earlier to tell me about the substance from the fire place. The lab had confirmed that there was ash from charcoal and Styrofoam mixed in with the expected oak and hickory.

"What about Rhonda?" I asked him because I knew that Eames had planned to get a blood sample.

"She is supposed to be meeting Eames at the lab to get that taken care of in the morning. She was agreeable," he added.

"So we're thinking it was accidental? Did Eames ask her about the charcoal? And who throws Styrofoam into a fireplace?"

"Rhonda claimed not to know anything about that. She said that Raleigh handled the fires."

"Of course he did," I muttered. "So he commits suicide by stupidity and then she dumps the body in the river so that she can maintain access to his money. Is that where we are?"

Goren didn't have a response for that. I think he was just as frustrated with this whole thing as I was. Not only was the evidence not matching up, but Ross was being an ass about it, too.

Eames was going to get into a whole lot of trouble if he busted her for sharing evidence.

After our conversation, I sat at the kitchen table and started making notes. I thought that maybe if I had all of the facts laid out in front of me that maybe I could start connecting the dots. I felt like I needed to turn up something since it was because of me that we were all involved. Okay, not completely because of me, but still…

Carolyn came up behind me and put her hands on my shoulders, kneading the tight muscles.

I sat back and closed my eyes for a minute, enjoying the feel of her touch.

"Goren told me about you today," I said suddenly.

"What?"

"He told me you were in town. I guess Eames told him."

"What did you say?"

"I thanked him for letting me know," I replied casually.

"That's it?"

"Yeah. Well, I think I said something about us having been just partners."

"Mike, he's going to figure it out."

"Because of what I said?" I asked in surprise. I sat up straight in the chair and scooted back from the table so that I could pull her down onto my lap.

"Yeah. He's smart. He'll know you were trying to play it off."

"I think he's got enough on his mind right now," I countered. I pulled her against me and ran my hands through her hair. I tried to remember why we'd been hiding in the first place.

Oh yeah. Because I was a chicken. And I didn't want to look like a fool for letting her break my heart twice.

But after all we'd been through this past weekend, I felt a renewed sense of security in her commitment.

We were together. We were going to move in together. Why in the world would I want to try to hide our relationship?

"But if he figures it out, then he figures it out."

"Yeah?" she asked with a slow, sexy smile that sent a flash of arousal through me.

"Yeah," I replied quietly. I leaned in and kissed her leisurely, enjoying the slow build of intensity.

She pulled back much too soon for my liking, but she was still smiling.

"I've got dinner on the stove," she told me, getting up from my lap.

"Let it burn," I suggested with a grin. "We'll order out."

She laughed and went over to the stove to stir whatever she had cooking, and then she came back to the table.

I was back to sorting notes.

"So where are Raleigh's kids?" she asked absently as she resumed massaging my shoulders.

"Not here," I replied as I sifted through the papers. "One's in Michigan, one's in Arizona, and the other is…Connecticut. All reports indicate that none of them had much to do with their old man."

"Huh," she commented as she continued to read my notes.

I knew that tone. She had something. And damn I had missed working with her. I'd almost forgotten how smart she is and how intuitive she could be when working a case. Wheeler was a good cop, but she was no Barek. And Falacci…don't even get me started.

"What _huh_?" I asked when she didn't say anything further.

"The one in Connecticut…" she said thoughtfully.

"Yeah?"

"He's a cop?"

"Yeah, he's with the Danbury PD…shit!" I yelled. I stood up quickly and grabbed the photo-copied personal information sheet up off the table. "You don't think…"

"You said it. She has a thing for cops. And this guy is what…forty-two? That's a hell of a lot closer to her age than sixty-eight. What else do we know about Matthew Raleigh?"

"Hardly anything. I never really looked at their sheets. They weren't involved in the old man's life. Shit," I said again. "So you think she met him first?"

"What do you think?" she asked, wanting me to work it through from the beginning.

"She met Matthew. He's estranged from his father. She likes cops but she also likes money and when she realizes how much money the old guy had, they hatch out a plan."

Carolyn was nodding like crazy the whole time I was talking.

"We need to establish a connection between Matthew and Rhonda," she stated. "It's just a guess right now. But it would explain why she was with Walter."

"Yeah. Women like that don't usually stray from a type," I added thoughtfully.

I'd been her type. I shuddered at the memory and wished like hell that I could wipe it away altogether.

"What it doesn't explain though is why she called you," Carolyn remarked. "How did it end with you two? I mean, I know what you did, but what happened after that? Would she have thought she had a chance with you again? Or that she could keep you from investigating her?"

"Carolyn…" I began, shaking my head. I didn't want to dig into that moment of my life any more than was necessary.

"Mike, quit thinking about it from a personal aspect. Think about it as facts."

"She…um…she wasn't mad. I was mortified. She wanted to keep things going, but I couldn't do it. She…um…she tried to provoke me. She wanted me to treat her bad."

"So you were too nice."

"Yeah, I guess. I didn't want to use her. I mean, not once I realized that was what I was doing."

"So she knows you're a nice guy. And she knows you probably still feel guilty about what you did. So if she plays up to you and leads you in one specific direction, you might not be inclined to look elsewhere."

"You think she knew the body was going to turn up?"

"I think that she and Matthew planned the murder. I think they poisoned him with the fumes from the fire and then, most likely, Matthew hauled him away and dumped him into the river. As long as Walter was only missing, then Rhonda could keep spending all of his money. Once he was dead, it would be split three ways. And that's assuming Matthew even knew he was in the will."

"We need to find evidence that these two knew each other," I said. It was all supposition and theory, but it fit too damn well not to be right.

I had never understood why Rhonda would be with an elderly man after running through the equivalent of a precinct full of cops.

But being with him as a means to an end…that was exactly Rhonda.

"I'm going to call Goren," I told her as she went back to the stove. I went to grab my phone, but then I made a detour to where she stood and wrapped my arms around her waist from behind.

"Thank you. I had almost forgotten what a great detective you are. You should think about going into the consulting business. You'd make millions."

I kissed her on the neck and then went to make my call.

Except I called Eames instead of Goren. It was her case, after all.

She could fill him in.

Hell, she probably wouldn't have to say a word. He would know all of the details just by looking at her.

* * *

Bobby POV

I had hoped Alex would make it earlier, but she ended up taking a detour to talk to Rhonda about giving a blood sample. After that, she'd gotten stuck in traffic, so it took longer than we'd expected.

She sent me a text to let me know about Rhonda's scheduled test, and she also filled me in about the lab report which confirmed our suspicions of charcoal and Styrofoam.

I called Logan because I knew he was just as into this case as I was. His theory was that it had been an accident, but that she'd dumped the body so she could keep his money. I couldn't argue with that at this point.

It was four o'clock in the afternoon when Alex arrived.

"How's everything?" she asked vaguely when I let her into the apartment. Her eyes darted around the room as though she was trying to look at everything but my injured area.

"I'm fine," I told her as I followed her into the kitchen. I liked that she was getting more comfortable here. She didn't wait for me to take the lead.

"Did you put ice on…it?"

I stopped in my tracks. Is she really asking me if I iced my balls? This was a conversation I never dreamed I'd be having. But since I was, I decided to be difficult about it.

"On my jaw? Yeah, a couple of times."

She played it cool. Of course, I didn't expect anything less from her.

"It looks a lot better," she commented. She tentatively reached out and touched the bruised area on my face. "The swelling seems to have gone down."

"Uh huh," I mumbled. I was enjoying the feel of her touch too much to think of real words.

"But I was actually asking if you'd put ice on your…other injury," she said as her eyes flicked briefly downward. I had traded my jeans for sweatpants to allow things to have a little more room, but I was suddenly wishing for the confinement that the denim had provided.

"I…um…no."

"You need to," she said, turning away from me and opening the freezer. "It'll help."

"And you know this because…"

She kept her back to me as she pulled out an ice cube tray and then searched through my drawers for a Ziploc.

"Eames," I said when she didn't answer my question. She finally stood up and turned around to look at me.

"I asked Rodgers," she admitted.

"You what?"

_Oh my God_. Please tell me she did not tell Rodgers that it was me. The last thing in the world I needed was for Rodgers to be thinking about my equipment.

"I didn't tell her it was you," she insisted. "I was concerned for you. You couldn't walk normal even after an hour. I asked her if you needed to see a doctor."

"I'm fine," I said again. But I took the bag of ice that she held out to me and then I turned and went into the living room.

"Don't be mad," she said as she followed me. "I just knew you wouldn't get it checked out."

"I'm not mad," I sighed as I sat down slowly. Truth be told, I was still sore. And it shouldn't be taking so long for the pain to go away, so I was worried about it. "What did she say?"

"She said to ice them…it…the area as much as possible for the first twenty-four hours," she told me, stumbling through the words in a very un-Eames-like fashion.

It was kind of amusing how flustered she was getting just talking about it.

I mean really. This was Eames.

There wasn't a shy bone in her body, and some of the things she talked about, the things she'd learned from her days in Vice, well…

Okay, I _really_ needed to think about something else.

"How bad did Ross chew your ass after we left?" I asked so that we could move the topic of conversation off of my balls.

"No more than usual," she replied, but then she nodded her head at my hand and I realized I was still holding the bag of ice.

The best thing to do would be to shove it down my pants, but I just didn't see myself doing that with Alex sitting five feet away from me. But if I didn't, if I just set it on top, then the heavy material of the sweatpants wouldn't allow for much of the coolness to seep through.

She seemed to recognize my dilemma.

"I'm going to get something to drink," she said, standing up quickly and heading for the kitchen. "You want something?"

"Yeah," I agreed, and then as soon as she was past me, I let loose the string on my pants and jammed the ice down into place.

I closed my eyes as I tried to adjust to the freezing sensation. _This sucks_.

And then I opened my eyes and Alex was standing in front of me, holding out a can of soda.

I still had my hand down my pants.

_Great, Goren_. I quickly let go of the ice and pulled my hand out.

"There are some places that aren't meant to be frozen," I mumbled as I accepted the drink from her outstretched hand. She smirked at me and went back to her chair.

"So Raleigh had been breathing in the fumes for a period of time," she said after taking a drink. I was grateful that she was getting back to the case.

"And we'll find out about Rhonda tomorrow?"

"Yeah."

"What else do we know?"

"Not much. Raleigh's three kids are the sole heirs. They're supposed to divide everything equally. The total estate is estimated at approximately twenty-four million dollars."

I let out a low whistle. That was some serious change. That would explain Rhonda's interest in him. Maybe. I was still confused as to what made her switch from cops to sugar daddies, unless she was just slow to realize that most cops were broke.

"You think there's any truth to her claim that he was going to change his will?"

"I don't know. If there was, that just makes her even less of a suspect. Why kill him now?"

"Unless she didn't mean to," I suggested.

"You think it was an accident."

"I'm wondering if it was an accident that it happened now. Carbon monoxide in small quantities can just make a person feel like they have the flu. Run down, lethargic…enough to make someone not care if a money-hungry bimbo was streaming through the bank accounts."

"But they were having sex," Alex argued. "She wasn't just keeping him drugged up."

"We don't know how recently they'd been having sex. Maybe she just used it as a means to get her foot in the door. Then she started with the Styrofoam fires and was able to quit putting out."

"I wonder if she gave him the STD or if it was the other way around."

"You think he was having regular sex before she came along?"

"I would bet that a man with twenty-four million dollars would have sex any time the urge hit him."

"So go back to the kids," I continued. "Where are they?"

"Spread out and apparently all estranged. That would lend some truth to her statement that he would change his will. If his kids didn't like him and now this beautiful young woman was in his life…it's not a stretch."

"You think she's beautiful?" I asked. And yeah, it was slightly off point, but I was surprised to hear her say that. She gave me a funny look before she replied.

"Well, I think she's a bitch. And she's loud and somewhat obnoxious. And she apparently has a leg like Pele, but yeah, she's also good-looking."

"No," I argued with a shake of my head.

"What? She's every guy's dream. Tall, thin, big…"

"Eames," I interrupted. For some reason I wasn't sure if I could handle the word _breasts_ coming out of her mouth.

I don't know why I was having so much trouble today. Maybe I'd been on suspension too long. Or maybe it was the ice down my pants.

But whatever it was, I was looking at things differently today.

"She's not every guy's dream," I told her.

"Well, Logan seemed to like her just fine."

"Logan is wracked with remorse over his drunken encounters with her," I told her. I had to stand up for the guy.

"_Encounters_?" she asked with a grin. And I should've known she would pick up on my use of the plural form of the word.

I loved how quick her mind worked.

"So the kids," I said, pulling us back to the case. "They don't live around here and they're not involved in the old man's life."

"Right. Well except for one. He lives in Connecticut."

"We should look at him, just to rule him out."

"Maybe not," she said as she looked over the papers.

"Maybe not look at him?"

"Maybe not rule him out. He's a cop," she said, giving me a pointed look.

"And we both know how much Rhonda likes cops," I replied.

We barely had time to discuss the possibilities when Alex's phone rang.

"It's Logan," she told me just before she answered.

I used the opportunity of her being distracted to remove the baggie from my pants. It was now filled with water and my pants were slightly damp from the moisture coming off the bag.

_Great_.

I got up from the couch and tossed the bag into the sink.

I had to admit that the ice had helped somewhat. I was able to move with more ease.

I went down the hall and into my bedroom so that I could change pants. I wasn't going to sit around with a wet stain on my crotch.

She hung up as I got back into the living room.

"He came to the same conclusion we did," she told me. "We need to look at the son."

TBC...


	15. Chapter 15

**Alex POV**

* * *

I was excited to have a lead on the case. And maybe we were wrong, but I didn't think so. Not when we'd all pretty much arrived at the same conclusion separately.

I was also relieved to see that Bobby was moving a little easier. I'd watched him walk down the hall to his bedroom while I was on the phone with Logan. His unique gait was almost back to normal.

I hadn't mentioned to him the sperm count thing. It had taken a great deal of mental fortitude for me to follow through with the insistence of the ice pack.

And he hadn't made it easy on me by jumping to the conclusion that I was asking about his jaw. He'd done it on purpose, I know, but it had afforded me the opportunity to touch him.

And since that was something we did so rarely, I wasn't going to complain.

I would have to come back to what Rodgers had said about getting a specimen tested. I was pretty sure I knew how he felt about having kids, but if for some reason he changed his mind, and he did want them, then I would feel bad about not mentioning it now.

I briefly entertained an image of Bobby gathering his specimen. And then I was ashamed of myself.

But hey, I was alone in the car on my way to 1PP. Who was it going to hurt if I daydreamed for a moment about exactly how he would go about getting the sample?

_Possibly the other drivers on the road_, I thought as I slammed on the brakes to avoid hitting the car in front of me.

I was going to the office to get a full financial work-up on Walter Raleigh. I needed to find out how long Rhonda had been going through his money. She'd mentioned that she'd been with him for two months, but I wasn't going to take her word for it.

I also wanted to pull everything that I could get without a warrant on Rhonda Hagen and Matthew Raleigh. There had to be a trail somewhere that put these two together. It would go a long way towards getting a warrant if I could find the connection.

My phone rang just as I pulled into the parking garage. It was Bobby.

"Eames."

"This may go back further than we think," he said without preamble. "I did some research on the Danbury Police Department. They had a joint training session with the NYPD back in September."

"Let me guess. Matthew Raleigh was a participant."

"According to their PD website, he and five other officers from that precinct stayed in Manhattan for six days."

"Long enough for him to meet a barfly hot for cops," I replied.

"And long enough ago for the two of them to come up with the scheme to get Walter's money."

I thought about that for a moment. If Rhonda had been telling the truth about her time with Walter, that would've put them together mid-November. Two months after meeting Matthew.

So where had she been during those two months? He would've gone back to Danbury. She didn't seem like the type who would last long without a man.

Her home address was listed as Weehawken, but that didn't mean she didn't upgrade her accommodations whenever possible.

"I think I need to make a trip up to Danbury," I told him. I wanted to check out Matthew's turf. And maybe I was getting ahead of myself, but I didn't think so. The records I was going to pull shortly should confirm my thoughts.

"When?"

"In the morning. Are you in?"

"Are you sure?" he asked hesitantly. I loved that he didn't want me to get into trouble, but I wouldn't have asked him if I weren't sure.

"Unless I get assigned a temporary partner in the next twelve hours, I don't see a problem with it. I mean, I'm not going to tell Ross. Are you?"

"No," he said on a chuckle. "Definitely not."

"Good. I'll pick you up at ten. That'll give me a chance to meet Rhonda at the lab and then let Ross know where I'm going."

"Okay," he said. And then he added, "But call me back tonight if you find out anything interesting."

"Of course."

Two hours later, I called him back.

"Rhonda hasn't had a job in three years," I told him when he answered. I was back in the SUV again, fighting the late-evening traffic.

"How does she pay her rent?"

"I'm not sure. I'm going to talk to her landlord."

"Now?"

"Yeah."

"By yourself?"

"Bobby. It's a landlord, not a suspected murderer."

"Where's Logan?"

"I don't know," I replied. "It's not my day to watch him."

"Eames…"

"It's Sunday. Logan's not on a case, so he's on his own time. I'm going to talk to an eighty year-old man about the method in which Rhonda Hagen pays her rent. I'll be fine."

"I know," he said after a minute. "I'm sorry."

And he meant it, I could tell, so I didn't fuss at him. It had to really suck being on suspension for so long. I'd worried about him every minute that I was on maternity leave.

"It's likely that Walter paid it in December and January. There are two withdrawals from his account, one each month, in the exact amount of her rent."

"That was fast. She met him mid-November and she's got him paying her December rent?"

"She must be good," I replied sarcastically.

"Yeah, but good at what?"

I knew what he meant. There was more than sex going on here. She was a master of manipulation. Was she manipulating us, too? Did she know we would head down this path or were we ahead of her?

It was hard to say at this point. We just had to follow the evidence and keep our eyes open.

"Hey, I'm here. I've got to run," I told him as I pulled up in front of Rhonda's apartment building.

"Call me when you get back to the SUV."

"I will. I promise."

**

* * *

**

Logan POV

I was awake at five for no reason whatsoever. In fact, I'd been awake at one-thirty, and then again at three, and again at three-thirty.

It was frustrating considering how much I wanted to be asleep. And I was in the perfect environment for it. The bed was comfortable, Carolyn was next to me, the radiator was emitting a steady, soothing hum…and yet I was wide awake.

"What's wrong?" Carolyn asked quietly. She began stroking her hand over my chest and for a moment I just enjoyed the feeling.

"You really think she sought me out just to influence the investigation? That she thought she could maneuver me to do what she wanted?"

It bothered me to think that, probably more than it should.

But it felt like my youth all over again. _Another woman attempting to pull my strings_. My mother had been the queen.

It was a miracle that I had any interest in women at all.

"Tell me about her."

"Rhonda?"

"Your mother."

I tensed for a minute as memories flooded my brain.

I wasn't surprised that Carolyn understood the root of my issue. Hell, she had pegged one of the finer moments of my childhood after only knowing me a few days.

That first case we worked together, when she'd told the suspect that I knew about the kind of anger his mom was showing…that had blown my mind.

"His mother used to send him out to buy booze for her. Tell Johnny how she used to thank you," she'd said to me that day in the interrogation room.

If it had been anyone else, I'd have made a smartass comment or just clammed up, but something about her made me want to tell.

So I'd proceeded to tell a story that I had never told anyone.

I'd been upset with her for forcing the issue, and yet I'd been amazed by how well she could read me. I was both angry and intrigued at the same time.

I realized now that maybe _that_ was when I started falling in love with her.

"You already know," I replied on a sigh. I hated thinking about my mother. She was dead. That was as much thought as I wanted to give to her.

"I know she beat you. And I know she was a drunk," she said softly, her hand still tracing patterns across my skin.

"That sums her up."

"But you see something of her in Rhonda. That's what's bugging you."

"She used to play these mind games," I admitted. "She would try to catch me in a lie. And she would twist my words and keep coming at me over and over…she wanted to make me confess."

"And did you?"

"Hell, I'd confess to things I hadn't even done just so that she would leave me alone. But see, that was the thing. She still didn't leave me alone, because then she'd have to beat me for whatever sin I'd just confessed to."

"She was angry. She took it out on you."

"That sounds like an awfully simple explanation."

"There's nothing simple about it. She blamed you for her life. You were an easy target. And now it makes you feel insignificant. And it makes you feel undeserving of love. But you know what? It makes you a good cop. It makes you question the motives of everyone."

"So one out of three?" I asked humorlessly. I knew she was trying to make me feel better, but instead I was feeling more damaged.

"No, Mike. That's not what I'm saying," she insisted. She sat up and slid across me so that she was sitting across my hips.

"I'm saying it was her issue, not yours. You know she was wrong to do the things she did, right?"

"Yeah," I said hesitantly.

"So you have to know that the feelings you derived from that are wrong as well. There is nothing insignificant or undeserving about you."

She leaned down and kissed me lightly on the forehead and then on each side of my face.

"Rhonda met you when you were vulnerable. And maybe now she thinks she can manipulate you, but you've already proven her wrong. You didn't fall for her charm, and you didn't look the other way when she emerged as a suspect."

I thought about her words as she continued her gentle assault of kisses. I let my eyes fall closed and some of the tension left my body.

"And you know what else?" she asked.

I opened my eyes and watched her as she sat back and tucked her hair behind her ear.

"We can use this."

"Use it how?"

"You manipulate her. You be the one in control. You be the one pulling the strings."

"You want me to play up to her?"

"I think that if you get close to her, she might show her hand. You can feed her some information and then see what she does with it."

It was a good plan. I wasn't thrilled about having to get close to Rhonda, but it might work.

"You think I can pull it off?" I asked her. My tone was teasing, but on the inside, I had my doubts.

"I know you can."

Carolyn was good for me.

If I could keep her blind to the fact that she deserved so much better, then we just might be okay.

TBC...


	16. Chapter 16

**Logan POV**

* * *

Monday was going to be a day from hell. I've had plenty of them in my life, but I had a feeling that this one would rank up there with the best of them.

The last thing in the world I wanted to do was make nice with Rhonda, but Carolyn was right. If Rhonda was involved, then it might help to smoke her out. It was worth a shot.

The day started out okay. In fact, it started out better than okay. Carolyn did her damnedest to make me feel good about myself. She sure as hell made me feel good, but I'm still going to give her all of the credit.

I got to 1PP at the same time as Eames.

"Rhonda Hagen always paid her rent on time and in cash," she said after we'd passed through security. "For the past two years."

"Who pays their rent in cash?" I mused as we got to the elevator.

"Someone who doesn't want the source traced. Did she ever…"

"Hit me up for money?" I finished since she seemed unable.

"Yeah. Sorry to ask."

"No problem. And no, she didn't. Not that I remember anyway. I certainly never gave her any. But you know, we didn't spend that much time together. I probably wasn't the only guy she had on the hook."

Eames nodded thoughtfully.

"Did you get her blood sample?" I asked, knowing that she was supposed to have met up with Rhonda earlier.

"Yeah, I just came from the lab. They're working it up now."

"What did she have to say?"

"Hardly anything. I think maybe she's a little afraid of me."

"I can't imagine why," I replied sarcastically. Hell, _I_ was a little afraid of Eames.

"I'm going up to Danbury this morning," she told me. "After I clear it with Ross."

"You going alone?"

"Officially, yes," she replied. Good. Goren was going with her.

Because I was going to rattle Rhonda's cage and if we were right in our assumptions then that might cause Matthew Raleigh to get a little nervous.

"I'm going to cozy up to Rhonda," I told her.

"Ross is going to love that."

"I'm not going to tell him," I said, leaning in close since we were now in the squad room. "I'm going to meet her for lunch."

"What are you going to say?"

"That I want to help her. That you're pissed at her for attacking your partner and so you've decided to put the screws to her and I don't think that's fair. And then I'm going to tell her that you found some kind of connection with the boat, but that I'm not sure what it is."

"The boat?" she asked as she set her things down on her desk and then walked around to sit in Goren's chair. I followed her and kept talking in a low tone.

"Yeah. Matthew has to be the one who dumped the body. Rhonda wouldn't have done that kind of dirty work. But she also wouldn't trust that he handled it cleanly, so she's going to call him to make sure he covered his tracks."

"That sounds pretty iffy."

"It is. But I've got a feeling it's going to work. And even if she doesn't call him, I'll keep an eye on her to see what she does. If she's involved, she'll blink."

"You're going to follow her all afternoon? How are you going to manage that?"

"I've got it covered."

I didn't mention that it wasn't going to be me following her. Carolyn was going to do it. I'd have to get my ass back to 1PP so that Ross didn't jump on me.

I didn't want to tell Eames about Carolyn. Not because I was afraid of outing the relationship, but because it would only get her into more trouble if we got caught.

The less Eames knew the better.

Ross was already suspicious that I was helping out with the case, and Goren, too, so if we threw another unauthorized person into the mix, it was only going to make it worse.

Since Eames was the official detective working the case, it would come back on her unless I kept her in the dark.

She wanted to ask about it, I could tell, but she didn't.

"You think Rhonda's going to buy the idea that you want to help?" she asked instead.

"I think that she thinks she's irresistible. That's why she called me to begin with. She's probably just been waiting for the moment that I would see the light and come running to her."

"Yeah, well, have fun with that," she replied dryly.

"It'll be a blast."

I stood up straight and headed for my desk.

Ross was watching me through his open doorway, but I just gave him a nod and sat down. I could tell that he continued to stare at me, but I just pulled out the paperwork from last Friday and got to it.

I would have to call Rhonda and invite her to lunch after Ross quit being a stalker.

"Detective Eames," Ross called out. "My office."

Now see? Why did he have to be such a jerk about it?

I watched as she got up and headed for his office. I had my back to Ross, so I looked at her until she caught my eye and then I made a face at her.

She bit back a smirk and shook her head slightly before entering his office. He slammed the door closed behind her.

**

* * *

**

Alex POV

"Where are we on the Raleigh case?" Ross asked me after flinging the door closed. I hadn't even sat down yet. Why the hell was he so pissed?

He walked across his office and positioned himself behind his desk, although he still didn't sit down.

"I think one of his sons may be involved. I'm going up to Danbury this morning to talk to him."

I filled him in on the rest of the details, and was very careful to use singular pronouns. It was almost like he was waiting for me to slip up and admit that Goren and Logan were still helping me. I don't know what the big deal was that they were. Wasn't solving the case the important thing here?

"This has turned into more than I expected," he said when I finished. "I'm going to assign you a partner to finish working this."

"That's really not necessary," I argued because I knew damn well he wasn't going to assign Logan.

"I think it is. I want you to bring Jeffries up to speed."

"Captain, really…I've just about got this thing wrapped up. It would take me longer to bring in someone new than if I just finish it up myself."

"You've about got it wrapped up? You've got multiple suspects, very little evidence, and only a vague theory about motive. Look, Eames, I know you don't want to work with another detective, but I can't keep you alone forever."

"Not forever," I said sharply. "Until Goren comes back."

"Right. But we don't know when that's going to be."

"He should be back already. It's been two months. He's done everything the department asked him to do."

I was getting pissed just thinking about it. A shrink, impulse control classes…what more did he have to do?

Okay, so he'd used questionable judgment when he went into Tates, but the end result had proven that he was right about that place.

"Eames, you know I can't discuss it with you," he replied. He sighed deeply and finally sat down in his chair. I remained standing.

"They're trying to make an example out of him," I stated. "I've seen cops do much worse and get less punishment."

Ross didn't respond. He knew I was right, but he wasn't going to get into the middle of that fight. He was going to let Moran do as he chose.

My respect for Ross dropped another notch.

"Captain, give me forty-eight hours to clear this case. If I can't get it done by then, I'll work with whomever you want to assign," I told him. And then for clarification, I added, "For the duration of this case."

He stared at me for a minute and then he gave me a slight nod. I decided to get out of there quickly before he changed his mind.

"Thank you, sir. I'll be leaving within the hour to talk to Raleigh's son in Connecticut. I'll check in with you when I get back."

"Watch your back, Detective."

I left his office and went back to my desk. It was only nine, but I was ready to go, so I sent Bobby a text to tell him that I was on my way. Then I grabbed my coat and made a quick stop by Logan's desk.

"Still solo?" he asked.

"I've got forty-eight hours to close this thing or I get saddled with Jeffries."

"Oh, well great. As long as we're not in any hurry," he replied with a grin.

"Did you set up your lunch date?"

"Twelve-fifteen at the diner," he confirmed. I nodded and slipped into my coat.

"Make it count."

"I'll get her," he said seriously. And Logan wasn't often serious so it made me wonder exactly what was going on with him.

I'd heard about his reputation. He went through more women in a year than most guys did in a lifetime.

And yet none of them ever spoke badly of him. He was honest about his intentions which made him rare as far as I was concerned.

So it made me wonder why the harsh feelings toward Rhonda. Was it just because of her attempt to use him? Or because she'd attacked Bobby?

I guess either would make sense, but I couldn't shake the feeling that it went a little deeper than that.

I left 1PP and went to Bobby's. I felt like I could drive there on autopilot now since I'd been there so much lately. And that was a good thing. I liked how much Bobby was beginning to open up. I couldn't help but think that it would make our partnership even better.

He was waiting out front when I got there.

"It's twenty degrees outside," I told him as he got in the SUV. "You didn't have to wait on the steps."

"I've only been out here a minute," he replied, although his nose was red from the cold. He was moving more slowly than normal, but still better than yesterday.

Was it acceptable for me to ask him about his injury? I couldn't decide.

"It's better," he told me with a smile. "Thanks for making me use the ice."

I returned his smile and pulled out into traffic.

"So how'd you manage to get approval for a day trip without a partner?" he asked me.

"I almost didn't," I admitted. "I've got two days to wrap this thing up."

"Ross must really like you."

I rolled my eyes at him.

"I don't think he likes anybody. And he was in a mood this morning, too. I don't know what's going on with him."

"I wonder if Rodgers broke up with him," Bobby suggested.

It was funny that he was thinking about people's personal lives. It wasn't something he normally did, but I guess that he'd shifted some of his curious nature onto that now that he wasn't solving cases every day.

"I don't know what she sees in him to begin with," I replied. "But I guess everyone has some redeeming qualities."

"You think?" he asked. "Even Ross?"

I laughed at his attempt at humor.

Even though this suspension had been hard on both of us, it seemed to have helped Bobby to be able to step away for a little bit.

And I knew that once he came back, he would regain the intensity that made him such a great detective, but it was nice to know that there was more to him than just case work.

It was nice for _him_ to know that about himself.

The job was important, but the job wasn't everything.

Although, in a way it was because the job was what kept us together.

What would happen to us if suddenly one of us didn't work there anymore? What if he was never reinstated? I didn't even want to think about that.

"Eames?"

"Sorry. I was just thinking about…the case."

"Think out loud. We'll work through it together."

I told him about what Logan was going to do, and then we worked out our plan of attack on Matthew Raleigh. It wouldn't be easy to trip him up considering that he was a cop. He probably knew all the tricks of the trade.

But I had Bobby on my side. With the two of us together, I'd be ready to face down anybody.

TBC...


	17. Chapter 17

**Bobby POV**

* * *

I was excited to be back in action with Eames. It almost felt like the old days.

I was going to have to call Moran and set up a meeting to discuss my reinstatement. I'd planned on letting it happen on its own time, but I never dreamed it would take so long.

It looked like I was going to have to give it a kick-start. I would meet with the chief and have him outline for me exactly what I needed to do to get my badge back. I couldn't just keep waiting around in limbo forever.

We spent the better part of the day in Danbury. Matthew Raleigh was a fairly smooth operator and he hadn't spooked easily. But he did spook eventually.

The really disturbing thing was that he looked nearly identical to Logan. Rhonda _definitely_ had a type.

Which was probably why his lunch date went so well.

He'd sent us a text afterward to tell us that she'd fallen for his charm. He'd played up the idea of how close Eames was to making an arrest and Rhonda had panicked. She actually asked him if he would talk to Eames to get her to back off. I wondered what offers she'd made to try to get him to go along with that. Then I decided I probably didn't want to know.

Logan's text to us coincided almost exactly with Raleigh receiving a phone call. It came in on his cell while we sat at his desk in the squad room.

Up to that point, he'd answered all of our questions.

"Do you know Rhonda Hagen?"

"I've never heard of her."

"She was your dad's lover."

"I haven't spoken with my father in years."

"Is that why you haven't claimed the body?"

"That's right. He was never much of a father. As far as I'm concerned, he died a long time ago."

"That's pretty…harsh. Was it something…in particular?" I asked him. I mean really. Who didn't have father issues? But he considered the guy dead to him?

"No. He just never felt inclined to spend time with his children."

"You're forty-two years old. You're not a child anymore. Surely you're busy enough to understand how that might happen. It didn't have to be a reflection of his feelings for you."

"You gonna play psychologist with me?"

"No, I'm just curious."

"I hated him. He didn't care much for me either. End of story."

"When was the last time you were in New York?" Eames asked while Matthew stared hotly at me.

"I don't know."

"Think about it for a minute."

"September," he answered finally. "We participated in a training session with the NYPD."

"You haven't been back since then?"

"No."

"So you wouldn't be on camera at any toll booth, no gas receipts along the way, no ATM withdrawals…"

"I haven't been to the city," he said firmly.

"And you don't know Rhonda Hagen."

"My dad had lots of women. This Rhonda woman probably wasn't special except that she was his last."

"Have you ever had an STD?" Alex asked casually as though she were asking what he'd had for breakfast.

"What kind of a question is that?"

"It's a pretty simple one," she replied with a smile. "Yes or no?"

"No."

"Never?"

"No."

But all of that was before Logan's text. After we got it, and Raleigh's phone started ringing, everything changed.

He didn't look at the display, but rather told us in no uncertain terms that our conversation was over. He didn't answer the phone. He knew it was her. He must have known she wouldn't call him unless it was urgent.

We left the precinct and waited in the SUV to see where Raleigh would go. While we sat in the vehicle, it started to snow.

"Did you check the weather?" I asked idly as I kept my eyes on the front door.

"No."

"There he is," I said as Raleigh exited the building. He walked down the steps and got into a dark blue Ford Tempo.

"He's taking his personal vehicle in the middle of a shift?" Alex remarked.

"Must be personal business."

We followed him at a safe distance through the streets of Danbury. He made a stop by a hotel where he retrieved a bag from a room that he already had a key to. Then he drove for almost two hours before pulling off the side of the road and tossing the bag down a ravine.

We photographed him doing it.

And then after he drove off, we went down the ravine after it. It was a fairly steep drop, and it was still snowing pretty hard, but we had to get the bag.

We finally got back into the SUV, both of us cold and wet, but victorious. We put the bag between us and opened it up.

In it was a house key, which in and of itself meant nothing, but I'd bet a hundred dollars that it fit the lock on Walter's front door. And there was also a tarp. It was rolled up neatly, so we left it like it was.

"So he rolled Walter up in the tarp, took him out on a boat, and then dumped him off."

"I wonder why he had it stashed in the hotel room," I mused.

"To buy time. If he became a suspect, we would search his house. We wouldn't think to check local motels. It's actually a pretty good hiding place."

"Yeah, well it would've been if he'd just left it alone. Rhonda must have really been afraid that you're closing in on her."

"Logan did good work, I guess. It was a great idea for him to give her a push."

"So now what?"

"Now we go back to New York and process the evidence. If this stuff checks out like we think, I should be able to get a warrant for his phone records and then that should link him to Rhonda."

"There must be a connection to the boat, too. That was the ploy Logan was using, right? It must be viable if she fell for it."

"We'll look through his financial records. He doesn't own a boat, so he probably rented one. And if he did, he had to pay for it somehow."

Alex started up the engine and the wipers came on, shoving the snow from the windshield.

We were at the northern border of Connecticut, on a back country road in the the middle of a snow storm. It was almost six o'clock in the evening and it was already pitch black.

"This doesn't look good," she commented as she pulled the SUV back onto the road. "It'll take us at least five hours to get back to the city."

"Want me to drive?" I offered.

"No," she responded quickly, although she did flash me a small smile.

She kept the SUV at a steady twenty miles per hour. That was about as fast as the conditions would allow her to go. Five hours was a generous estimate. It was going to be more like seven or eight at this rate.

At seven-thirty, we reached the town of Norfolk. It was literally fifteen miles from where we'd started, just north of Canaan.

I saw a sign for a motel ahead. I was debating on making the suggestion that we stay the night and head for the city in the morning when she suddenly slammed on the brakes and the SUV spun halfway around, coming to a stop sideways in the road.

"Shit! Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. What was it?" I asked as I turned in my seat to see what had caused her to brake.

"Deer. There were about six of them. It's a good thing I wasn't going any faster than I was."

"I think we need to stop," I told her. "This is crazy trying to drive in this mess."

"Yeah, but stop where?"

"I saw a sign a half a mile back for a motel in the next town. Two miles I think it said."

It took us ten minutes to go the two miles to the Shakespeare Motor Lodge. It actually looked more like a house. A small house.

"I've got a room," the elderly lady told us with a smile when we got into the lobby. It was really just a foyer with a podium set up to hold the registry. No computer or phone in sight.

"We need two," Alex told her.

"I've got _a _room," the lady repeated. "As in one. Take it or leave it."

We took it. I'd started to question how in the world this place was filled to maximum occupancy when I'd only seen two other cars in the driveway, but I wasn't going to argue. I had no problem sharing a room with Alex.

"I need to call Ross," she told me after we had locked the door behind us.

I looked around the small room while she pulled out her phone. Maybe I would have a problem sharing with Alex.

There was a full-size bed in the middle of the room. There were two hard-looking chairs along one side and a tiny dresser on the other.

It was going to be a long night.

Sometime later, I was laying flat on my back on top of the covers, staring at the ceiling. It had only taken her about ten minutes to convince me that we should both sleep in the bed. I was still pretty nervous about it, but she seemed fine with it.

I had scooted as far to one side as I could so that Alex would have room. And so that I didn't accidentally touch her. Or reach for her. Wouldn't that be embarrassing?

I was afraid to go to sleep because I didn't know what my subconscious would allow me to do.

We were both still mostly dressed, although we'd removed the outermost layers. She'd gotten rid of her sweater and I'd taken off my button-down shirt.

I was hyper-aware of every movement she made. She brushed her hair from her face. She scratched an itch on her arm.

The room was fully dark. I wished for a little light. I would love to see what she looked like lying in the bed next to me. And okay, she wasn't _in_ the bed. She was on top of the covers. And she wasn't _right_ next to me, but she was in the same bed.

I wasn't sure if I would ever have another opportunity to be with her like this. I was hit with a feeling of longing so strong that I had to push it away. I couldn't deal with my desires right now.

And it wasn't even about sexual desires, it was about intimacy. It was about wanting that close connection with her, something even greater than what we already had.

But I didn't know how to get what I wanted. And I was pretty sure I never would.

I listened to her breathing for awhile and I thought that she was asleep.

But she wasn't.

"Bobby," she whispered.

"I'm awake."

She was quiet again and I wondered if she truly was sleeping. Had she called out my name in her sleep? Was she dreaming about me?

"What is it about a woman like Rhonda that would make a man throw away everything for her?"

Boy, was that a loaded question. _You mean like I would throw away everything for you, Alex?_

"I mean, Matthew Raleigh is a cop. He's got a house and a decent life. He met Rhonda and four months later, he's helping her commit murder so that he can have his father's money."

"It's hard to say," I answered. My voice felt loud in the quiet room so I brought it down to a low rumble. "We don't know what kind of man Matthew is. He doesn't have a record, and yeah, he's a cop, but there are plenty of bad cops out there. Maybe it was like the perfect storm, him meeting up with Rhonda. Maybe it all fell into place because they were both after something similar."

"You think she's in love with him?"

"No. I think she's using him, too."

"I feel bad for Logan. He seemed pretty upset."

"No one likes being used," I replied sadly. Lord knew I'd felt like that often enough. I hadn't dated much in recent years, but when I did before, it always seemed like the women wanted something from me rather than just wanted _me_. They liked my job or my car or my looks or what I could do for them in bed.

"That's true," she agreed. And her tone was sad, too. I wondered how often it had happened to her.

"But in answer to your question, women like Rhonda aren't anything special. They just know how to find a guy's weakness and use it against him. And at the same time, they play up to his insecurities so that he feels better about himself."

We laid there in silence for a few moments, and I was enjoying the feeling of closeness. I wished I could touch her, but just knowing she was beside me was almost enough.

"I stayed at a little place like this one time when I was a kid," I said suddenly. The reason for the feeling of familiarity about this place had just hit me. "Except it was in Virginia."

"Your mom took you?"

"Yeah. It was all four of us. It was this tiny little lodge on the Rappahannock River. We spent all day playing in the water, and I got the worst sunburn…"

"How old were you?"

"I don't know. Six, maybe," I said. I closed my eyes and let the memory come to me. "We had the best day, and then that evening when my dad saw my skin, he yelled at my mom for not making me wear a shirt. He said she was being irresponsible."

"He wasn't there with you?"

"No. I'm not sure where he went during the day. He came back in time for us to go to dinner at this little seafood place. But then he got so angry at her. I told him that it was my fault. I told him that she put the shirt on me, but that I took it off."

"That protective streak in you goes back a long way, doesn't it?" she asked.

"I guess."

"And your willingness to always shoulder the blame."

"I couldn't let her get into trouble because of me," I explained.

"Your dad shouldn't have fussed at her. Kids get sunburns. She wasn't being a bad parent."

"Yeah," I agreed. "It was still a good day though."

And it had been. Me and Frank had gotten along. My mom was relaxed.

"Thanks for sharing it with me," she said quietly.

"Now it's your turn."

I hadn't told my story just so that she would tell one of hers, but since the opportunity had arisen, I wasn't going to let it pass me by.

I knew a lot about Eames, but I didn't know that much about Alex.

And I wanted to know everything.

TBC...


	18. Chapter 18

**Alex POV**

* * *

I'd known as soon as we'd laid down together that there was no way in hell I was going to go to sleep. Sure, I was tired. Driving two hours in a snow storm can drain the life out of you.

But the thought of being in the same fairly small bed with Bobby had my adrenaline pumping. I was a little embarrassed about my reaction. It had been my suggestion, after all.

"We're adults. I'm not going to try anything. Are you?" I'd finally asked him after he spent ten minutes arguing with me.

Where else was he going to sleep? The chairs? They looked about as comfortable as it would be to sleep in the truck. Less so, even.

He had masked his surprise at my question and instead simply nodded his head.

"You're right," he agreed.

Of course he wasn't going to try anything.

He was Bobby.

I was _Eames_.

The silence stretched out between us and I felt the need to say something. I wanted to make a connection with him.

He sighed heavily and it felt strangely intimate.

What was it about the change in surroundings that was able to throw me so completely off-balance?

Bobby and I spent countless hours together, often in close quarters. And yet now, just because we were in a hotel room together, on the same bed, I felt totally off-kilter.

Was it because of the vulnerability? The defenselessness you feel when you're sleeping that makes it different?

I couldn't say.

I only knew that I wasn't going to be going to sleep and it wasn't because I didn't trust Bobby. It was because I didn't trust myself.

I knew from previous experience that I tend to be a clingy sleeper.

And true, it had been quite a number of years since I'd last slept all night with someone, but I couldn't run the risk of latching on to him in the middle of the night.

I'd have to stay awake.

So as we lay there in the dark, I listened to the sound of him breathing. I wondered what he was thinking about.

_Probably the case_.

That was fine. I could work with that.

"Bobby?"

"I'm awake."

His voice was deep and sounded husky as though maybe he'd been on the verge of sleep. It sent a familiar tingling feeling through me that I struggled to ignore.

_The case. Talk about the case_.

"What is it about a woman like Rhonda that would make a man throw away everything for her?"

He didn't answer right away, so I found myself rambling on about how a guy like Matthew could get wrapped up in a murder scheme.

But what I really wanted to know was how it was that certain women seemed capable of getting a man to do anything.

I've never been one to use my feminine wiles. Okay, maybe that's not true. I've used them on the job, but I've never used them for personal gain.

What was the point? Why trick someone into staying with you? Or maneuver them into being nice to you?

"It's hard to say," he answered. His voice was loud, but then he adjusted it back to that low sexy tone that I just knew I'd be hearing in my dreams. "We don't know what kind of man Matthew is. He doesn't have a record, and yeah, he's a cop, but there are plenty of bad cops out there. Maybe it was like the perfect storm, him meeting up with Rhonda. Maybe it all fell into place because they were both after something similar."

"You think she's in love with him?" I asked. I didn't think so, but I was curious to hear what he thought. We agreed on a lot of things, but not always for the same reason.

"No. I think she's using him, too." _Too_. He was thinking about Logan. So was I. He'd seemed pretty determined to beat her at her own game, and he must have done a damn good job of it.

"I feel bad for Logan. He seemed pretty upset." I wondered if Bobby knew more details than I did, and if he did, I wondered if he'd share.

"No one likes being used," he said simply. His voice sounded sad, like the voice of experience. Of course, we'd all been there.

"That's true," I told him.

"But in answer to your question, women like Rhonda aren't anything special. They just know how to find a guy's weakness and use it against him. And at the same time, they play up to his insecurities so that he feels better about himself."

Funny, but that was the exact opposite of what I intended to do. I knew Bobby's weaknesses, but I tried to protect him from them. I would never use them against him. And his insecurities were something that needed bolstering for his own self-esteem, not for my personal gain.

And then out of nowhere, Bobby told me about a childhood memory. I felt like it was Christmas.

And it was a happy memory, not some heart-wrenching story. I mean, yeah, his dad yelled at his mom. But he'd had a fun day with his family. And he had stepped in to protect his mom.

I had no trouble picturing a little six-year-old Bobby standing up to his dad, lying just to keep the peace in the family.

It made me feel so good that he had shared the memory. Usually getting personal information out of him was a long drawn-out process. And even then, I only got crumbs.

But this time, it had been his idea. He'd given me a glimpse into his life. Like I said. Christmas.

I found myself smiling in the dark.

"Thanks for sharing it with me," I told him sincerely.

"Now it's your turn," he replied.

He sounded truly interested. Of course, he always did. He loved learning bits and pieces about me.

It used to make me feel like he was examining me, trying to figure out how the puzzle went together, but I didn't feel like that now.

Before now, most of my stories had been work stories. My days in Vice…things that happened in the Academy…rarely anything personal.

I'd talked a little about my years with Joe, but not much. I wasn't ready to open that door yet. I didn't want his pity and I didn't want him to look at me differently. I was afraid he would do both if he knew the truth.

So instead, I glossed over most everything. My life had been far from perfect, but that was no one's business but mine.

Up until now.

For some reason, it didn't panic me to share a memory with Bobby. It didn't make me feel vulnerable. It made me feel closer to him.

So the only question was, which one to pick?

I tried to think about things the way that he would. If I told him this story, then he might think this…if I say this instead, then he might think something else.

But in the end, I just picked one that made me smile.

Bobby wasn't going to judge me. He just wanted to know a little more about the person he spent most of his time with.

I could appreciate that.

I wanted to know everything about him.

But I could be patient. I could trade him tit for tat.

"The house we lived in when I was growing up…my room had dormer windows. I used to like to climb out the windows at night and sit on the roof."

"You liked to live dangerously? Why am I not surprised?"

"It wasn't that high," I insisted, although I couldn't stop the slow grin that made its way across my face.

It had been two stories. The fall probably wouldn't have killed me.

But I do know that I sure as hell could never get my sister Cathy to come out there with me. She was too afraid, of heights and of our father.

"Anyway," I continued, "one night when I was…um…seventeen…I…um…came home from a date and I was…upset."

I'd actually been downright furious, but I wasn't going to tell Bobby all of the details. My boyfriend had just dumped me. The day _after_ I'd finally caved to his pressure to sleep with him. Talk about feeling used.

But Bobby's pretty perceptive. _Yeah, and the Eiffel Tower is pretty tall_.

"Why were you upset? What happened? Did he hurt you or something?"

"No, nothing like that."

Well, it was a lot like that. He'd hurt my pride plenty.

"The guy broke up with me," I told him. "Anyway, that's not really the story."

"I'm sorry. Go ahead."

"Okay, so I got home and planned to hurry up to my room. I didn't want to tell my dad what had happened. But he was down in the basement, so instead I went through the kitchen and stole a six-pack out of the refrigerator. I took it up to my room and climbed out onto the roof."

"A six-pack of beer?"

"Yeah. What'd you think? Soda?"

"You were seventeen."

"I was two months from being legal. You never had a beer before you were of age?"

"Maybe once," he admitted, but I could tell by his voice that he was grinning, too. I was glad I'd picked this story.

"So," I continued dramatically, "I was out on the roof, drinking my beer, and the next thing I know, my dad pops his head out of the window."

"Uh oh. Busted."

"Yeah, you could say that," I chuckled. "I nearly spit out Schlitz all over the roof."

"What did he say?"

"He held out his hand, and I gave him the remaining four cans. Then he sat down beside me, pulled one off the ring and opened it up. We stayed up there and finished the six-pack. I told him what had happened on my date, and he shared some stories about himself."

"I can't believe you didn't get into any trouble."

"Well, after we went inside, he did mention that if he ever caught me stealing his beer again, I'd be grounded until I was eighteen."

He laughed quietly, no doubt picturing the scene.

"Your dad's a good guy."

"Yeah, he can be. He has his moments." He also had his moments where he drove me crazy. Like anytime the topic of my dead husband came up, which was every damn time I went home for dinner. I think he'd had a harder time getting over Joe's death than I did.

In fact, I still don't think he'd gotten over it yet.

We were quiet for a moment longer, each of us lost in our own thoughts. I was relaxing though. It was a distinct possibility that I was going to fall asleep, and the thought didn't frighten me anymore. If I woke up plastered against Bobby, I would just have to apologetically extricate myself. There were worse things.

"Thank you," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "It really means a lot that you would…be willing…to share something like that."

"You, too," I replied simply.

Several more minutes went by.

"Eames?"

What was it going to take to get the man to call me Alex?

We were in bed together.

And then my mind flashed on a completely inappropriate thought.

What if we really _were_ in bed together? I mean, _really_. Would he still call me Eames?

The idea had me biting back a giggle. What can I say? I was exhausted and starting to get a little juvenile.

"What is it?" I asked once I had myself under control.

"That guy…your date…he didn't hurt you?"

My heart melted with the realization that his mind was still stuck on that. He was such a sensitive, conscientious guy.

"He damaged my pride a little. That's all," I admitted.

"Hmmm…" he replied thoughtfully. He sounded like he was on the verge of sleep himself. "So he broke up with you?"

"Yeah."

"He must have been crazy."

I wasn't sure how to respond, but it made me ridiculously happy that he would say something like that.

And after a moment of thinking about what I should say, I realized that his breathing had evened out.

I didn't need to say anything at all.

I simply relaxed further and let myself drift off to sleep.

TBC...


	19. Chapter 19

**Carolyn POV**

* * *

I'd watched Mike leave the diner slightly ahead of Rhonda. He gave me a look as he passed the car, but he kept going. He couldn't risk stopping in case she was close behind him.

She wasn't.

She sat in the diner another four minutes. She made a call, then set the phone down, and then a minute later, picked it back up and put it to her ear without dialing. So she'd called, and then he'd called her back.

This was working out exactly as we'd expected. We'd perfectly coordinated the timing, and I had no doubt that Matthew had been sweating bullets when he'd received a call.

I got a text from Mike while Rhonda was still on the phone.

_I'm headed back. Keep me posted. Love you_.

I smiled at the last two words. I knew it was bugging him that I was the one who had to follow Rhonda. He felt so horrible about his history with her, but I didn't blame him.

And I didn't mind being the tail. It actually felt good to be back in action again. Besides, I was looking forward to the opportunity to gain some insight into Rhonda.

I was curious about her since she was one of Mike's previous lovers. What had he seen in her? He'd mentioned that he thought she was the opposite of me.

As I watched her walk out of the diner and onto the sidewalk, I could see it. I felt like I knew everything there was to know about the woman just watching her walk twenty yards.

She had certainly dressed to the hilt for her lunch date with Mike. _Mikey_. Please. Did men really fall for that crap?

But in all honesty, I could see why Mike had been drawn to her. She was attractive and feminine and everything I assumed that men looked for in a woman.

Mike had also told me that Goren was scared of her, and I could see that too. She ate nice guys for breakfast, and Goren was definitely a nice guy.

Mike was too, but he had a rough edge. And he would never admit it, but I had a feeling he was a little afraid of Rhonda, too, now that he was sober.

She glided down the sidewalk with the air of someone who felt a sense of entitlement. She expected people to step out of her way. She kept her head up and her eyes forward. She was confident. Because she'd gotten away with murder? I'd bet on it.

She hailed a cab. It was Cop-101 to be able to stay on her. Never take a cab if you're trying to be evasive.

I didn't know if she was smart enough to know that or not. Either she didn't know, or she wasn't worried about anyone following her. And if she wasn't worried, then this was going to be a boring day because she must not have anything to hide.

We ended up in Weehawken at her apartment building. She paid the cab and went inside.

I waited for a few minutes, undecided about whether or not I should follow. I wanted a closer look at her. Hell, I wanted to _talk_ to her.

For personal reasons, of course.

Mike hadn't just slept with her once. He'd slept with her several times, so something about her had brought him back. Was it just because she was willing? Or had I hurt him that bad? Probably both.

It was driving me crazy that this plan of ours was letting her believe that Mike was interested in her again.

And I know, it was my idea. And it was a damn good one.

But I still didn't like it. I wanted her to doubt herself. Why shouldn't she? She wasn't any better than the rest of us.

I sent Mike a text to let him know where she'd gone, and I set my phone to silent.

And then I got out of the car.

I got myself buzzed into the lobby by telling a little white lie. It's amazing how gullible people can be, even when it involves their own security. What's the point in having a buzz-in door if all it takes is one dumb ass to put the whole building at risk?

I checked out all of the names on the mailboxes. I knew that Rhonda lived on the third floor. The name of the guy directly above her was Adam. I knew the name of the super was Harold because Mike had told me about Alex's visit.

Armed with my new information, I went up to the third floor.

I couldn't help but enjoy the rush I was getting from this whole adventure. I'd missed being a cop. I'd missed the excitement and the complexities and the adrenaline…I needed to find work before my instincts turned soft.

"Who is it?" Rhonda called out when I knocked on her door.

"Carolyn," I answered. I had to smile.

There wasn't much more insulting than to be called another woman's name by your lover. Even if she'd claimed to be okay with it, I knew that it wasn't something she would ever forget.

It had been more than a year, so I wasn't concerned that she would think I was _that_ Carolyn. But I also had no doubt that hearing my name sent her right back to that place in time, complete with the degradation that went along with it.

The door flung open and she glared at me. I quickly took in her features.

Now that I was up close, she looked older than I'd first thought. I knew she was forty-one, but from a distance she didn't look it. She was obviously working hard to disguise her age, but the botox injections weren't quite cutting it.

She held her phone down at her side. I had interrupted a call. I made a mental note to pass that along to Mike so that when they got the phone records, they could see who she had called. I didn't believe for a second that she wasn't getting all of her ducks in a row after Mike had warned her about Eames' impending arrest.

"I don't know you. What the hell do you want?"

"I'm looking for Adam," I told her, pasting a confused look on my face. "Who are you?"

"I live here. There's no Adam here."

"Are you sure? He told me to come by. He was going to talk to Harold about letting me rent the available unit," I explained.

"I'm telling you, it's just me here. You've got the wrong address."

"Oh," I said. I made a point of looking at the apartment number that was nailed to her door, and then I pulled a piece of paper from my pocket. "I'm sorry. He's one floor up. My mistake."

"No problem," she replied just before slamming the door in my face.

I went back to my car feeling quite juvenile, but satisfied nonetheless.

I was able to justify my field trip by saying I needed to confirm that she was actually in her apartment. I mean, she could've had an accomplice living in the same building, right? I needed to be sure of her whereabouts.

I pulled out my phone and called Mike.

"She doesn't look like she's going anywhere, but she was on the phone."

"You went in?"

"I had to make sure she was in her apartment."

"Carolyn…"

"It's fine. She doesn't know who I am," I reminded him. "And she still doesn't. I had a good cover story."

He was quiet for a minute and I knew he was trying to decide if he should say anything more.

"You just wanted to get a closer look at her," he told me in that deep rumbling tone that never failed to send my heart racing.

"Maybe," I admitted.

And then because I was trying to stay business-like, I added, "How long do you want me to watch her?"

"Give it an hour. If she hasn't run by then, she's not going to."

"Okay. I'll call you back."

"Carolyn?" he asked, and his tone had lowered again.

I knew he was at his desk, so I also knew that whatever he was getting ready to say was personal.

And I loved that he called me by name. All of the time, I mean. In bed and out. He didn't seem to worry about the wrong one ever slipping out.

"What?"

"She's got nothing on you. She never did."

**

* * *

**

Alex POV

The snow had apparently stopped around midnight. The roads were decently plowed by mid-morning, so although it was still slow going, we made it back to the city around noon.

I dropped Bobby off at his place. He seemed reluctant to get out of the car and I could appreciate the sentiment. Our road trip had potentially been a defining moment for us and neither of us seemed to want it to end.

But worked called.

I took the tarp to the evidence lab, and I instructed an officer to take the key to Walter's place to check it out. Then I stopped off by the locker room to shower and get into some clean clothes.

"How was the trip?" Logan asked me when I sat down at Goren's desk. I turned around to look at him and wasn't surprised to find him grinning.

"Matthew Raleigh is definitely our man," I told him, even though I knew that wasn't what he was after.

He'd gotten a real kick out of the fact that we'd had to spend the night in Connecticut. Although I didn't mention it had been in the same motel room. Logan would've just had a field day with that tidbit.

"Any leads on the boat?"

"No, but I think once I get access to his records, we'll be able to track it down. It's just a matter of time now."

I got busy on paperwork while I waited for the results.

Ross still had no idea that Bobby had gone to Danbury with me. I have to admit to getting some kind of perverse pleasure from listing the motel room shared by the two of us on my expense report.

Of course, nothing illicit had happened, but a girl could dream, right?

Besides, what we had shared had been something more than sex. We'd both slept, fairly soundly, and that was saying something.

And we'd both shared something of ourselves. It really was a breakthrough moment, and I couldn't help thinking that maybe it had been a first step towards something. Something more substantial. Something more fulfilling.

And it was probably crazy of me to be so focused on that, but I couldn't help myself. I'd been attracted to Bobby for a long time.

Okay, I'll admit it. I've been _in love_ with him for a long time.

Every time I learned something new about him, it only made the feelings even stronger. When he'd first gone on suspension, I'd thought that maybe this would be a good test for me.

Were the feelings I had simply born out of propinquity? Were they cultivated by the constant closeness and our necessity to depend on one another for our jobs? For our lives?

Or was it something deeper?

Two months into the suspension, and I had my answer. My feelings had only increased in intensity. As if there were ever any doubt…

My phone rang and startled me out of my introspection. I needed to learn to compartmentalize a little better because sitting at 1PP was not the time for me to be thinking about my love life. _Or lack thereof_.

"The key's a match," the officer told me when I answered the phone. "It fits the front door."

"Okay, thanks."

I hung up and called the lab.

"Anything? Preliminary results?"

"There's a little blood on the tarp that matches your victim's type. There were also a few hairs. You know it's going to take longer for confirmation."

"But you've got blood," I stated.

"That's right."

I called the ADA to see about getting a warrant.

"Start with the financials and the phone records," the ADA told me. "I'll work on getting you a search warrant for his property, but if you find something good, call me back and we'll tack on an arrest warrant."

An hour later, I had the requested records.

The call that Matthew had received while Bobby and I were questioning him was on the list, but the number wasn't registered. It was a disposable cell.

"Shit. She's not as dumb as I thought," I muttered. But I guess my voice was louder than I thought, because Logan approached the desk and began reading over my shoulder.

"What's up?" he asked as I began highlighting all of the incidences where that number occurred on the report. I was afraid my highlighter might run out of ink for as much as I was using it.

"The number is a no-name. Who'd have thought she was smart enough to use a cell that's not in her name?"

"It's the number she called me from."

"What?"

"When she called here on Friday. You took a message, remember? That was the number I called her back on."

"So I can get the switchboard logbook…"

"And we've got her," he finished with a grin.

Matthew's bank records showed withdrawals in October and November matching the exact amount of Rhonda's rent.

Once I was able to get my hands on the call logs from the disposable cell, I found a phone number that traced back to a boat rental company. So Rhonda had arranged the boat rental.

It was all falling into place now.

Another hour and I had my arrest warrants. I called the Connecticut State Police to get them to serve the warrant on Raleigh. I didn't want to drive back up there, and I didn't want him to get wind of it through any of his brothers in blue.

After arranging to have Matthew picked up, I went to let Ross know that I was going to bring Rhonda into custody.

I wanted to let Logan come with me. I wanted to let him be the one to put the cuffs on her, but I knew Ross would fight me.

Luck was on my side though.

As I stood from my desk, one of the secretaries came into the squad room. It was somebody's birthday and there was cake in the lounge.

I couldn't care less because it always seemed to be _some_one's birthday and there was always _some_ kind of junk food in the lounge.

But the room cleared as though it were on fire.

I quickly walked to Logan's desk.

"Do not move," I told him in a quiet voice.

"You could say _please_," he replied, although he kept his butt firmly in his chair.

He flashed me a quick grin, and I knew he was getting me back for the other day when he'd ordered me around and I'd insisted on him being nice.

"How about this? Don't _fucking_ move," I said, matching his grin. He barked out a laugh.

"Yes ma'am."

Then I went into Ross' office.

"I got the arrest warrants for Matthew Raleigh and Rhonda Hagen. The CSP is picking up Matthew. I'm going to head over to Weehawken now and get Rhonda."

"Take Jeffries with you," he told me quickly. I turned around and glanced at the nearly-empty squad room.

"Um…sir?" I questioned, drawing his attention to the room as well. No one was in sight. Except for Logan.

Ross let out a long-suffering sigh.

"Fine. Take Logan."

I hustled out of Ross' office and grabbed Logan by the shoulder on my way past.

"Hurry before he changes his mind."

Logan hopped to his feet and followed me to the elevator. Once we were inside, he gave me a curious look.

"So, where are we going?"

I hadn't realized that he didn't even know the arrest warrants had come through.

He's followed me blindly, without question.

I was really starting to like him.

"You're going to put Rhonda under arrest."

TBC...


	20. Chapter 20

**Bobby POV**

* * *

Three months went by.

Three months since Logan and Eames went to arrest Rhonda Hagen only to find that she was in the wind. Gone without a trace.

I wondered if Logan had gotten any sleep since then. I knew it had to be tearing him up. Eames had been pissed, but at the same time, the case didn't have the same personal feel for her that it had for Logan.

They had issued a national BOLO, but so far she'd managed to stay under the radar. She must be smarter than any of us had given her credit for.

So it had also been three months since Alex and I spent the night in the motel in Connecticut.

I had really thought that it might be a first step towards us becoming closer, possibly exploring a relationship.

But then, in the true disastrous fashion that is my life, things had gone downhill.

The week following, I received a message. It was from a lawyer whose name I didn't recognize. He was a probate attorney, so I thought that it might have something to do with my mother's estate, or lack thereof. Possibly a debt that someone was trying to collect.

I called the lawyer back.

I was wrong.

It had to do with Mark Ford Brady.

And to think that I had almost been successful at forcing the possibility from my mind, that possibility that he might be my father. No such luck. Here it was, front and center.

The lawyer didn't want to discuss the particulars with me over the phone, but rather he wanted me to come to his office.

I didn't want to. I put it off. For nearly a month, I put it off. But he kept calling, and so I finally went.

Brady's estate had cleared probate and I was named in the will.

He had left me his tract of land upstate. The place where he had buried his book from the sixties.

I gave the lawyer implicit instructions while battling the urge to throw up.

Sell the land. Give the proceeds to charity.

Even though I was struggling financially, I didn't want one penny from that man.

I left his office in a daze and the next thing I knew, I was at the morgue. I had gone on autopilot, and once I arrived there, I was scared to death. Scared that I would run into Alex and have to explain my presence.

But I didn't. Instead, I went inside and found Rodgers.

I trusted her to run the test and to keep it a secret. I also trusted her not to ask me any questions.

"What can I do for you, Detective?"

"I need you to do me a favor."

She briefly glanced up from her paperwork.

"Personal, I'm assuming since I think you're still on suspension."

"That's right. Personal and confidential."

"Of course."

"I need you to draw some blood. I want you to run my DNA against what you have on file for Mark Ford Brady," I told her.

She had gone back to filling out whatever form she'd been working on, and at my words, I noticed that her pen paused its motion, but only for a second.

Then she set down her clipboard, snapped on some gloves, and proceeded to draw blood from my arm.

"I should have preliminary results in…"

"Send it off somewhere. Don't run it here."

"Okay," she agreed.

"And I don't want anything preliminary. Just wait until you get the full tests back," I told her.

I didn't want guess work. I didn't want a _likelihood_. I wanted definitive.

"Okay," she replied with an efficient nod. "Eight to ten weeks."

I went home afterwards.

That night, for the first time in a long time, I didn't have a good dream about Alex.

This time I dreamed that I was Brady's son in every sense of the word.

The dream had begun as it did every night since Connecticut. Alex and I were in bed together. Only we weren't sleeping on opposite sides of the bed, we were holding each other close.

But just when the dream started to get good, horrible images stormed my brain. Images of me in a fit of rage, snapping and going after Alex, hurting her in unimaginable ways.

I woke up, drenched in sweat. I couldn't go back to sleep.

I picked up the phone to call her, just to make sure that she was okay even though rationally, I knew that she was.

"Bobby?" she answered, her voice thick from sleep. It was almost three a.m.

"I'm sorry. Go back to sleep."

"It's okay. What's wrong?" she asked, now sounding more awake. And concerned.

_Great, I woke her up _and_ I worried her_.

"Nothing. It's fine."

"Was it a dream?"

"It was…um…yeah. I'm sorry I bothered you."

"Stop saying that. It's fine. Tell me about it."

I was revolted by the idea of sharing that dream. And it made me wonder what Alex would think of me if she knew the truth. If it _was_ the truth.

Would she be appalled to know that I was the son of a killer? That my touching childhood memory was all a lie because the man whom I thought was my father actually wasn't?

"Or not," she added in an understanding tone since I had remained silent. "Talk about something else."

And so I did. I talked and she listened. It was nearly as intimate as our conversation in the dark over a month ago, and I was finally able to relax again.

But the dreams kept coming, night after night. I found myself drinking before I went to bed to try to keep them from coming. It didn't work.

And I couldn't keep waking Alex up in the middle of the night. That wasn't fair to her.

I also found myself afraid to spend time with Alex alone. I started making up excuses to avoid being with her. I knew it was hurting her, but I couldn't risk it. _What if my dreams were to come true?_

My resistance to be with her on a personal level only served to make me more desperate to get back to work.

If that was going to be the only place where I would trust myself to see her, then I had to get my badge back.

A month later, I finally got my meeting with Moran. I had called him the week after Connecticut, but he had been successful at avoiding me since then.

So after I'd been out for a little over four months, at last he agreed to meet with me.

And it was a disaster.

He wasn't in any hurry for me to come back.

"_How do I know that you've learned your lesson, Detective Goren? Can I trust you to follow orders? How can I be sure that you deserve to carry the NYPD badge?"_

All very good questions.

_Because I desperately need to spend more time with my partner in a venue other than my apartment where I'm afraid I might kill her_.

As if he hadn't questioned my sanity before. If those words escaped my lips, I'd be in Bellevue by sundown.

And of course, the rational side of me insisted that I was no different than I was before. I would never hurt Alex. Not intentionally and certainly not physically. But the more I pulled away from her, the more my irrational side began to take over.

"_Give it some more time," Moran had concluded. "Another month and then check back with me. Keep going to your classes and your therapy sessions." _

So now I was more than five months into suspension. I had completely turned inside myself.

I didn't return Logan's calls.

I didn't return Alex's calls.

It was a self-imposed hell that I'd managed to convince myself I deserved.

My phone rang as I sat in the dark. It was late, so I knew who it was. I let the voice mail answer, and then within another minute, my landline rang. Alex's voice came through the machine.

"Bobby, pick up the phone. We need to talk...Bobby, please…Okay, I'm coming over."

Her determination had me moving. If she was coming over, then I couldn't be here. I loved her too much. I couldn't drag her into my personal hell.

I grabbed my jacket and headed out the door.

Two hours later, as I nursed yet another drink, Copa walked into the bar.

_That's just fucking great_.

That was what I needed.

Or maybe it was.

Maybe if I let him beat the crap out of me, like I knew he wanted to do, then I would feel a little better about myself.

But to my amazement, someone else stepped in.

"Mike Stoat," he introduced after the scuffle was over. Red flags were popping up like crazy, all of my cop instincts on full alert.

I'd been out for so long that I had begun to doubt I even knew how to be a detective anymore. And yeah, okay, so I was happily wallowing in self-pity.

But when I started getting a vibe from Stoat, I almost felt like myself again.

I wanted to turn to Eames and say, "_Get a load of this guy. He's up to something_."

But of course, Eames wasn't around. She wanted to be, but I'd pushed her away. I was starting to think that maybe I'd been an idiot. Why would I push away the one person who understood me? Was I really going to let Brady ruin my life? Was I going to let Moran keep me down?

Alex had to suspect about Brady. She was perceptive. She knew the potential connection between him and my mother. And yet she'd still pursued a friendship with me beyond the job. That possibility hadn't dissuaded her. Why hadn't I considered this before? Before I'd effectively cut her out of my life?

Because I was too damn busy feeling sorry for myself.

And Moran, well…he was an ass, but if this Stoat guy was up to something, maybe I could work out some kind of deal.

So when Stoat walked away and left behind the newspaper and the gun, I felt a trickle of hope, something I hadn't felt in months.

Not since that night in Connecticut.

* * *

**Logan POV**

It had been a bitter pill to swallow, learning that Rhonda had escaped capture. It had stuck in my craw for weeks.

Okay, longer than that.

And even now after three months, I still checked the wire every day to see if anyone had reported seeing her. She would turn up eventually, of that I had no doubt. But I wasn't going to get a good night's sleep until she did.

Carolyn and I had found a place, and so the move was complete.

I didn't let go of my old apartment, though. Instead, I found a sub-letter who would take over until the end of the year. Maybe that would give me the time I needed to feel confident that she wouldn't leave me.

And it wasn't that I didn't trust her. I did now. I believed in her completely.

But I didn't trust myself. At some point, I was going to do something really stupid to screw this whole thing up.

Wheeler had come back, so I once again had a partner. She'd gotten herself engaged, which had come as a surprise to me, but I was happy for her. She was a good kid.

I kept my personal life to myself. Not that I felt the need to keep Carolyn a secret anymore because I didn't. But that didn't mean I was going to start sharing secrets with Wheeler just because she was my partner. All she needed to know was that I would have her back. And I did.

I was somewhat concerned about Goren. For the past couple of months, he'd managed to dodge my calls.

I'm not big on friendships. They take a lot of commitment and nurturing that I'm just not wired for. Casual acquaintances have always been more my thing. If I keep my expectations low, then no one is going to disappoint me.

I blame it on Carolyn that my opinion on that has gradually changed.

I've come to appreciate the value of good friends. And I've learned that it's nice to have someone around to count on, and that not everyone is going to disappoint me.

I'd enjoyed working with Eames on Rhonda's case, enjoyed getting to know her better. There were no hidden agendas with her. What you see is what you get. And she was so damn dependable that I couldn't imagine a scenario where she would ever let me down. I could understand why Goren liked her so much.

I liked Goren a lot, too. We seemed to have some things in common, more things than either of us would probably ever admit to. I was worried that he was getting depressed since his suspension was dragging on for so long.

And now I felt like a bad friend because I'd let so much time pass. I would call him and leave a message, but then not follow-up. I was busy.

Carolyn and I had made the move, we'd had to buy furniture, she was getting her business started…and then there was work.

With Wheeler back, I was catching more cases again and the warm weather seemed to be bringing the criminals out of hibernation.

So when I realized it had been damn near three months since I'd heard from him, I told Carolyn I needed to go out.

She was in the living room with a case file spread out in front of her.

Two months ago, she'd started working the phones and drumming up clients to start a consulting business. She helped law enforcement agencies work on cold cases, or offered up profiles for active cases.

It was a genius idea for which she gave me all of the credit. Something about a comment I'd made after she caught the Matthew Raleigh connection.

"I'm going to track Goren down," I told her.

"You still haven't talked to him?"

"No. And the last time I saw Eames, she said she hadn't talked with him lately either."

"That's unusual, huh?"

"Yeah. They were talking multiple times a day for a while there."

"Okay," she said. I leaned over and gave her a kiss and then headed out the door.

Forty-five minutes later, after I'd struck out at Goren's apartment, I found myself down the street from his place at the local pub.

I went inside and saw him sitting at the bar. He sat back and shoved a newspaper inside his jacket before draining his glass. I sat down on the stool next to him.

"Let me buy you the next one," I said.

"Logan," he said in surprise. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Looking for you. What's it been, three months now?"

"I…um…yeah. Something like that."

"So what's going on?"

"Nothing."

"You just decide not to return my calls anymore?"

"I've been busy."

"On suspension? Doing what? Cause it's sure as hell not talking to Eames."

I picked the right button to push, because he whipped his head around at the mention of her name.

"Why, what did she say?"

"Nothing. Just that she hadn't talked to you lately. Why are you giving everyone the cold shoulder?"

I thought he was going to balk. I thought he'd get up from his barstool and walk away, and I was already trying to decide whether or not I should follow.

But then he let out a long sigh.

"I think I've really screwed up."

"Well, I know that. You quit talking to your friends. What else did you do?"

"There's just…stuff going on, and…I don't know."

"Stuff. Okay. Stuff you don't want to talk about. I get it. I get that you don't want to talk to me. We haven't known each other that long. But why aren't you talking to Eames? She's worrying herself sick over you."

I didn't know if that was true because Eames would never admit to something like that, but I had a feeling it was fairly accurate.

"It's all gotten away from me," he said simply. "And I don't know if I can get it back."

TBC...


	21. Chapter 21

**Bobby POV**

* * *

I was thrilled to be given the opportunity to get my badge back.

"Look, you're within your rights to walk away," Ross told me.

"Yeah, but if I do then they keep me in purgatory forever."

"Watch yourself out there."

"Yes, captain," I said as I stood up. I picked up the .45 and started to leave.

"Just get me back," I added.

But then Ross delivered a crushing blow.

"You can't tell anyone. Not even your partner."

"I can't tell Eames?" I asked immediately, my shock at the directive overriding my internal censor. "Why not?"

"Orders from the chief."

"But why? Why would he specifically say not to tell her? She's my partner."

"She's not your partner right now. She has another partner, as of today."

Okay, chalk up low-blow number two for Ross. Eames has a partner? You're damn right she does. That's me.

"I have to tell her," I said finally, ignoring the sick feeling in my gut.

I'd called Eames that night after I'd talked with Logan:

"_I don't know whether to chew your ass out for ignoring me for so long, or to just be grateful that you finally got your head out of your ass," she'd said._

"_Do I get a vote?" I asked tentatively. I wasn't sure if she would appreciate the tease or not. "Because if I do, I think I'll go with grateful."_

_And then she chuckled. It was quiet, like she didn't really want me to hear it, but it was there. _

"_I was starting to get a complex," she stated._

"_Please don't. I've just had a lot going on and..."_

"_Oh, please don't give me the __**'it's not you it's me'**__ speech."_

_And then to my surprise, I started laughing. So did she. _

I had missed her so much, and then I hadn't called because I was afraid, and yet there she was, instantly letting me off the hook.

The words _I love you_ just wanted to bubble out of me because the surge of emotion I felt at that moment was the strongest yet.

This woman understood me. She knew my shortcomings and my flaws and yet she wanted to spend time with me anyway.

And now I risked ruining it all.

If I did an undercover assignment, I'd be out of touch again. I'd have to keep secrets.

But if I didn't, would I ever get my badge back?

Eames was already working with various partners. And Ross had given her another new one today? What if I turned this down and Moran forced one of them onto her as a permanent assignment?

He'd been trying that for months, but how long would she be able to hold out? How long would she want to?

"Detective, if you tell Eames about this assignment, then you're done. Moran was quite clear. He needs you to do this by the book so that he can trust that you have learned how to follow orders."

"Doesn't the book usually say that partners are in the loop?" I asked him smartly, throwing back his own vernacular at him.

He gave me a droll look and continued.

"Moran's book. The only rule is to do as he says. And he's saying that no one knows except me."

So that was that.

I was supposed to be returning her call this afternoon. She'd tried my cell earlier, but I'd been with Stoat and couldn't answer. And then the meeting with Ross…but now I couldn't call her back.

So another day passed.

I prayed the undercover would be quick. She was so willing to let bygones be bygones when I'd call before, but if I went silent for weeks on end again…I didn't know what she'd do.

I came out of a diner on my way to meet Stoat.

"Bobby!"

I turned to see Alex walking toward me.

My heart leapt and sank at the same time. Is that possible? Because that's how it felt.

I wanted to see her, was overjoyed to see her, especially since she had clearly gone out of her way to find me. And she looked so beautiful and so happy to see me.

But I couldn't talk to her. What if Stoat was early? He was supposed to be picking me up.

"What are you doing here?" was all I could ask.

"I left you a couple of messages. You didn't call me back."

"I've been busy," I replied vaguely.

_Tell her_, my internal voice shouted. _To hell with Moran_!

But how could I say to hell with the man who could keep me away from her?

"With what?"

"Sorting stuff out."

The look in her eyes was like a knife in my heart. I was hurting her.

I could take a minute. I _needed_ to take a minute.

"So, how're you doing?"

"I caught those two tourists that were murdered in Red Hook."

And then my phone started buzzing. _Fucking Stoat_.

"I gotta run. I'll call you."

I turned away and left without looking back. I couldn't bear to see her face.

_Please, God, let this be over soon. And please let her someday forgive me. And since I'm sending up prayers, please don't let this end badly_.

Well, one of my prayers was answered.

It was over soon.

Four days later I found myself staring at Alex yet again, only this time it was through the sights of my .45.

I never, ever want to be in this situation again.

And yes, it was of my own doing.

And yes, I probably deserved every bit of anguish that I felt.

But still…

If only I'd told her about the undercover.

Because if I ever thought I'd seen her mad before, none of those times compared to now.

"You're undercover and don't tell me?" she yelled.

I couldn't say anything.

"You're sorry? That's all you have to say to me?" she shouted later on.

Oh yeah, still furious. Maybe even more so now that the initial shock had worn off.

I wanted to explain. I made a half-ass attempt at it.

But the truth was I deserved every bit of her anger, so I let her speak her mind.

Because if I hadn't wasted three months barely speaking to her, then when I went undercover, she would've known something was up. We would've still been in synch and she would've come to the right conclusion.

But I kept avoiding her just because I felt sorry for myself, because I didn't give her enough credit.

And then I tried to make it up to her too late. It was too close to when the undercover started, so then she'd had her doubts. Doubts about the sincerity of my apology, and probably doubts about how I felt about her.

So I deserved it all. And I would keep taking it as long as she kept dishing it out.

Because anger was better than nothing at all.

"So, I guess I'll…see you tomorrow," I said shakily as Eames grabbed up her jacket and prepared to leave for the night.

I had just been graced with the return of my badge.

I was ecstatic to return and yet terrified that it was all for naught.

I silently begged for her to throw me a crumb. A look, a smile, the promise of a phone call…

"Yep."

Okay, well, at least that meant she was coming back.

That night, I got a call from Ross that he needed us for a case. He wanted me down at 1PP right away.

I wasted no time getting there.

"A missing husband case? You need both of us for this?"

Clearly Eames was less thrilled than I.

But like I said, she hadn't requested a new partner yet, so I was going to keep pushing forward.

I know we had something. I know we were on the verge of _being_ something together. I wasn't going to give up on it just because I'd made a colossal mistake.

So we worked the case.

She snapped at me and rolled her eyes and questioned every word out of my mouth.

I was quiet and deferred to her expertise and basically acted like a whipped puppy.

But I wanted her to know how far I'd go.

"Well you're exactly right. I'm…I'm just saying…you're right."

That had been the last straw.

"Bobby, this has to stop," she said when we got in the SUV.

"What?"

"You. Acting like…someone I don't know."

"I'm sorry," I said immediately.

"That!" she yelled in frustration. "That right there! Quit apologizing for every little thing!"

"I…I don't…I just…" I sighed deeply and tried to start again. "I don't know how to fix this," I admitted. "I don't know how to make you understand."

"I understand," she said quietly.

"You do? Really? You understand how badly I needed to come back? You understand that Moran threatened to never let me back if I told you? You understand that I would've done anything…"

I caught myself. I wanted her forgiveness, but I couldn't go so far as to admit that a huge portion of the motivational factor behind what I'd done had been my love for her. I would've done anything _to get back to her_.

"I understand," she said again. "Do you understand why I was so mad?"

"Was?" I asked with a small, hopeful smile.

"I…" she started, and then she let out a tired laugh. "Yes, _was_. I was mad because I was scared. Do you know how close I came to shooting you? Do you know how worried I was when you wouldn't return my calls?"

"Eames," I said softly. And then I said it again so that she would look at me. "Eames, I truly am sorry. I will never do something like this again. I promise. I didn't think about what it would do to you. I mean, I did, but I greatly underestimated."

"Okay," she replied. She leaned her head back against the seat, but kept her eyes on me. "I hate being mad at you."

"I hate you being mad at me, too," I admitted.

"You have to learn to talk to me. I thought we were getting there for a little while. But I do understand that you got caught in a difficult circumstance."

I breathed out a sigh of relief. And then I realized that I needed to go one step further.

"I asked Rodgers to run my DNA."

She was quiet for a minute. It had been a random statement, but I was sure it would only take her a moment to piece it together.

"You think Brady is your father. I wondered about that."

"What do you think?"

"I think that between that and Moran jerking you around, you had pretty good reason to go off the deep end for awhile."

"And?"

"And I'm glad you told me."

"Me, too. I was afraid it would make you…uneasy."

"Bobby…" she said on a sigh, and it was just about the sexiest sound I've ever heard.

I wanted to hear that sound again some day, but preferably under different circumstances.

"When you get the results, you can tell me," she continued. "Or not. But please know that you can always talk to me."

"So…we're…good?"

"We're good. Want to go check out the Health Club?"

"Twenty bucks says Woody and Avery just ran off together."

"Another twenty says Rodgers gets pissed off at Ross if she finds out how he's handling Jarrow with kid gloves," she added with a grin.

"You're on."

"I'm glad you're back, Bobby," she said as she started the engine.

"Me, too."

TBC...


	22. Chapter 22

**Logan POV**

* * *

I'd had enough.

That last case was…going to be my last case.

I thought if I took some time, that maybe I'd be ready to go back, but I wasn't.

The politics of dealing with that bitch DA, the lack of support from Ross…it just finally proved to be too much.

And then of course, there was the priest.

When he came into the squad room to ask for my help, my first response had been to pawn him off on someone else. I don't deal with priests.

But I'd been distracted.

An hour earlier, I'd received a text. It was from Rhonda.

"_I'm sorry I had to leave you, Mikey, but you know how it is. Bigger and better fish are calling my name."_

Unbelievable.

She was using the same no-name cell. I couldn't believe she hadn't trashed that thing. What was she thinking? She probably thought it was a safe thing to do. It was unregistered. But as far as I was concerned, it meant that I could continue pulling the call logs and maybe be able to trace her based on the calls that were made.

It was a long shot. She was probably smart enough to know I would do that. But even smart people screwed up sometimes.

I called Eames and told her about the text. She and Goren were working some stakeout. She sounded lighthearted when she answered. I was glad to hear it.

They'd struggled somewhat over the past month, trying to regain their footing after that whole undercover fiasco, but it seemed as though things were back on track.

I hated to bring her down by giving her the news of Rhonda's taunt, but she took it well.

"The more she tries to flaunt her freedom, the easier it'll be to track her."

She had a point.

"Send her a reply," she continued. I heard Goren's voice in the background, but I couldn't distinguish the words. "Goren says to tell her you want to run away with her."

I barked out a laugh. Yeah, that was going to happen.

"Somehow I don't think she'll buy that," I replied.

"Okay, well, keep me posted."

I hung up with Eames, and then in came Wheeler, dressed to the nines. I gave the requisite compliment and then Mr. Double-O-Seven himself came in.

He was a slick character, and I didn't trust him, but Wheeler seemed smitten, so I smiled and shook his hand and kept my mouth shut.

So I was sitting there pondering Wheeler and Mr. Wonderful, as well as the whereabouts of Rhonda, when Father Shea approached me.

Like I said, I was a little distracted.

That's the only excuse I can come up with for how I let him convince me to hear his story.

And then he had to throw Lennie Briscoe's name at me.

I knew right then and there that I was screwed because if the man had been a friend of Lennie's, then I was going to help him.

So I did.

And working with a priest might not sound so bad to most people.

Despite the fact that I'm no longer a practicing Catholic, it probably wouldn't have even been bad for me.

Except that it was.

Because of what I'd had to endure as a child.

Why is it that there are some things in life a person can never get over?

When I came home after talking with Father Shea, I'd been in a mood. A particularly foul mood.

Carolyn had figured me out after only a few minutes. Big surprise there, huh?

"Want to tell me about it?" she had asked quietly after listening to me rant on and on about the hypocrisy of the church.

"Tell you what?" I barked out.

I thought maybe that if I lashed out at her, then she would back off. I didn't want to share this, my deepest, darkest secret. She already knew about my mother, and that had been bad enough.

I didn't want her to know about this.

She knew I was damaged, but she didn't know _this_.

How could she possibly love me if she knew the truth?

But Carolyn doesn't scare.

Ignoring my hostile glare and confrontational stance, she walked right up to me and put her arms around me. She put her cheek against my chest and held on, even though I didn't make a move to reciprocate.

I kept my hands on my hips and took deep breaths as the panic filled me.

She knows. _How does she know_?

She held me and stroked my back and whispered that she loved me over and over. It was enough to make a grown man cry.

And I did.

I finally wrapped my arms around her, and I stood there in our living room and cried. And I told her everything.

For the next few days, I was afraid. I thought that one day, I'd come home from work and she'd be gone. Like, _packed-up_ kind of gone.

I honestly believed that there was no way that she could still love me.

But it turns out, she does. I can't figure that one out.

Another week later, after closing the case, I went to talk to Father Shea.

"You've done your duty, served, and protected, and there is another world out there that you have just not been able to see," he told me.

And I decided that he was right.

That night, I talked things over with Carolyn and then I called Deakins to ask him about a job.

And then the next day I went to see Ross.

I gave him the news and he didn't make any effort to dissuade me. He was probably tired of butting heads with me, and that was fine. I was tired of it, too. I was tired of working for a man who seemed unable to stand up for his detectives.

So I turned in my badge and gun.

I did feel a little bad for Wheeler. She'd had a rough go of it. Her fiancé was facing federal charges. I knew that little bastard was too slick, but of course, I never uttered the words _I told you so_, even though I thought them.

And I had no doubt that the man now held the title of _former_ fiancé. Wheeler had taken awhile to grow on me, but she was tough and I knew she wouldn't let a man walk all over her.

I hated to make her break in a new partner after everything else she'd been through, but for once I had to think of myself first.

And my heart just wasn't in it anymore.

"What are you having, Mike?"

I was in Louie's bar, and I looked across the counter at Louie himself, who stood with his hand hovering over the Jack Daniels bottle, ready to pour me a shot.

I had just left Ross' office. I didn't even have to work out a notice, since Driver was screaming for my head anyway. A suspension had been likely, so this just made it easier on everyone.

"Make it a draught today, Louie," I told him. Damned if I was going to get predictable.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. Fix the damn beer," I replied with a grin. I'd known Louie a long time, and even though I hadn't been around lately, Louie still remembered me.

In the old days, me and Lennie would stop by this place after work. I figured it was an appropriate place to come after clearing the case for Lennie's friend.

Of course, back in the day, Lennie always stuck with club soda. He tried hard to stay on the wagon.

Me, I always had a shot of Jack. It took the edge off the day. Today sure as hell had quite a few edges, but I figured if I drank enough of it, the beer would do the trick.

"You meetin' somebody?" Louie asked when a bell jingled. He nodded toward the door.

I didn't look. It wasn't like the place was crowded. He would see me.

"Fix another beer," I said.

"Interesting place," Goren said as he slid onto the barstool next to me. "I'm glad I'm still packing."

"Me, too, since you didn't bring Eames to cover your ass."

And to my great astonishment, he blushed. Not just a little either. He turned the color of a sun-ripened tomato.

"Okay. Spill it."

"What?"

"What the hell is going on with you and Eames?" I asked him with a grin.

"Nothing that you're thinking," he replied easily. He seemed to be hitting his stride lately, and I was happy for him. He'd certainly been through a bitch of a year.

"Things are getting better," he added. "I'm still working on regaining her trust."

"She trusts you," I assured him. There were few constants in life, but I felt sure that was one of them.

I'd heard the details about Goren's undercover. After the fact, of course.

I thought Moran was a huge dickhead for forcing Goren to keep it a secret from Eames. It had been a crappy situation for both of them, and the prick Moran was probably sitting back in his office getting his rocks off about it.

One day, I was going to get him back for every underhanded, immoral, unethical thing he'd ever done.

But right now, I wanted to forget about every damn ass-kisser at 1PP.

"Maybe," he conceded. "I hope so."

"You know she sat at your desk the whole damn time you were gone," I told him.

It was irrelevant and she'd probably kill me for telling him, but I knew it would make him feel good.

And it did. He looked down at his glass and tried to hide a smile.

"So what's new with you?" he asked, effectively changing the subject.

"I quit today."

"What?"

"Yeah. That whole Driver situation. I just…I'm done."

"I'm sorry to hear that. What are you going to do?"

"I've already talked to Deakins. I start next week."

"Tell him I said hi."

"I will," I agreed. Deakins had been a great captain. Ross didn't even come close, although he probably suffered terribly from comparison. The bar had been so high when he'd come to the position that failure was inevitable.

"I'm living with this woman now. Did I tell you that?"

"You are? Since when?"

"A few months. April. She's great. She…knows things…about me, and…it doesn't bother her."

"That's great."

"Yeah. Yeah, it is. I…it's just that…I realize now that I have her that…the job isn't as important as I used to think. I've never wanted to be anything but a cop. And now…now I want to be with her. My job is…just a job. Know what I mean?"

"Yeah. I think maybe I do," he replied vaguely. I'd gotten him thinking.

Once again, I wondered about the nature of his relationship with Eames. I don't know why I kept coming back to that except maybe it was because I was pulling for him. _For them_.

Goren was a little like me in the sense that he couldn't see his own worth.

I had Carolyn.

He deserved Eames.

"I need to…um…get back," he said as he finished his beer. He'd only had one because he and Eames were working to finish up a case. "I'm hoping we can clear this case by tomorrow so that I can get off a little early. It's…um…tomorrow is my mom's birthday."

He stood up to leave, and I felt a moment of panic. I realized that I had grown to depend on Goren. He was pretty much my only male friend.

I stood up, too, and shook his hand firmly.

"Just because we won't be working together anymore, doesn't mean you don't call me if you need something, okay? Or even if you don't need something. Anytime, okay?"

He smiled and gave me a nod and the left the bar. I wasn't sure if he would call or not.

But three weeks later, he did. At two a.m.

"Logan. It's Goren. I'm at the hospital. I need a favor."

The End


End file.
